Persephone's Angel
by Angel0624
Summary: Persephone loved her mother very much, that is, until she was murdered. When this tragedy struck she was placed with the only person who could support her, her uncle Firmin. Reluctantly, M. Firmin takes his niece to the Paris Opera House, and puts her to work as a servant. Not the most ideal job, that is, until she meets someone who turns her life around.
1. Persephone's Angel

_Chapter One: This Is How It All Begins_.

"Why must_ I_ keep her, Agatha?"

"Because you can provide a life for her, Firmin! Joseph and I are but only being wedded, we have not money for a child!" Hissed my aunt Agatha, she and her brother (my uncle) Firmin were arguing in whispers on what my fate would be. I stood, hiding, behind the wall before the kitchen, eavesdropping.

"Agatha, things are very busy and I-"

"You don't think planning a wedding isn't busy? The nerve of you, Firmin! Take the damned child, for god sakes, Firmin! You don't even have to interact with her, the Paris Opera House is grand, I hear, seventeen floors! Just...please, Firmin, do it for her; give her a life." My Aunt Agatha hissed, fading into weary silence.

"Fine, I'll take her to Paris with me, but, you owe me, Agatha. You owe me greatly." Uncle Firmin growled, Agatha thanked him and I silently walked before the wooden casket lying in the middle of the room, I crossed my legs and tapped the box. They hadn't even cared to make her an actual casket, it was just a box made out of plywood, nailed together hurriedly. Her funeral funds couldn't pay for a better box, I had no money and Firmin was a greedy, greedy man.

I tapped the box and smiled, I knew how she was killed, t,hey tried to tell me it was of disease, but I saw a fleeting glance of her body that day, she was murdered. My mum was murdered. Firmin and Agatha walked out of the kitchen into the small living room, our entire house was small, it was only three rooms.

We didn't need much since father left when I was born.

Firmin sighed "pack your things, Persephone, you're coming with me" uncle Firmin said, I gave a weak smile.

"I already packed, monsieur" I said weakly, standing and walking into my mum and my bedroom and bringing out a small, brown leather bag. Uncle Firmin told me to always address him as 'monsieur' even though I'm English. I knew very little French since I lived in Whitechapel at the time, which isn't the best place to live, but it's all my mum and I had. Uncle Firmin nodded and turned.

"Let us leave, then, Paris is quite a ways away and we must get to the heart of it, come" Uncle Firmin said, opening the door, I nodded to my aunt Agatha who waved a goodbye. "God, it stinks, how did you and your mother live in such filth?" Firmin asked covering his nose with a white, laced handkerchief.

I shrugged.

"You get used to things, smells, ways of life. This doesn't bother me anymore" I said, looking up to him, he scoffed and quickly opened the door for me to the carriage, jumping inside after me.

-* We spent our two hours together silent, Firmin didn't know anything about me and I didn't care to know about him, he didn't want me around, it was a burden to him to have me around. I was a bastard child and I disgraced him, he didn't care two pounds about me. I stared out of the window the majority of the ride, watching England turn to ocean, then our carriage stopped at the docks, a large ship named the_ 'Victoria'_ awaited our arrival. "Try not to look so...wonderstruck" Firmin growled as I stared up at the ship, I nodded and walked beside him, attempting to look normal. We boarded the ship and instantly Firmin struck up a chat with some wealthy dignitaries visiting from Spain.

I sighed and sat far away from him, in a white, wooden chair near the water. People yelled in what seemed to be a different language and the boat lurched, then started chugging away from England.

Ten minutes into the boat ride I had played two games of chess with myself and lost both times. I wasn't very good at chess. I sighed in boredom and stood, walking over to the side, peeking over and watching the blue water bubble and foam from the boat's propeller. I wasn't interested in boats or mechanics, I just liked the water and the way it sparkled. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see a man in a white outfit, his hair was silver and his eyes were the equivalent of melting sapphires.

He was tall and saluted me; he then started speaking very fast French and I felt my eyes bulge, the man laughed and smiled amiably. "English, huh?" He asked, I nodded, he interlocked his fingers behind his back "my name is Captain Edmund, you can call me Eddy, madam. I noticed you were quite enthralled with the ocean, you can see it all from the wheel...care to come?" He asked, I smiled and looked to Firmin, he was still quite into his conversation.

"I would love to, sir" I answered, Edmund held out his arm to me and I hesitantly took it up, no one had been this unexpectedly nice to me besides my mum. We walked up two flights of stairs and Edmund told me of some of the animals that live in the ocean, he described a man eating fish with razor sharp teeth, I gasped and he laughed.

"Just don't swim out too far and it won't get you" he concluded as we made it to the helm. There was a tall, stocky boy running the wheel. Edmund saluted him and then turned me to the windows, I dropped his arm and my jaw hung open, we were surrounded by a vast, turquoise blanket of shimmering diamonds! The diamonds were broken and a grey fish jumped out of the water, when it hit the water again, it's tall slapped the diamonds, making them shoot everywhere; I craved to hold a diamond like that. Edmund laughed as he walked beside me "he waved to you."

My brows furrowed "who?" I asked, Edmund pointed to where the fish disappeared.

"The dolphin, he waved to you, dolphins only come over to these cold waters if someone very important is on the boat...I would put my money on you" he said, smiling over to me, tears stung my eyes, that was the sweetest thing someone had ever said to me.

"Thank you, sir" I said softly, regaining my composure "I doubt it's for me, though, I'm no one, sir, no one in particular. It's probably for my uncle Firmin, he owns an Opera House" I said, watching a thin sliver of gold arise on the turquoise diamonds, that was my first glimpse at France. Edmund smiled.

"My dear, we were all put on this earth for a reason, and I think that you're someone, you're going to grow into someone great, madam, wait and see. You will, besides, your uncle owns an Opera House, you could give singing a chance" Edmund said, lighting a cigarette, I smiled, mum did say I had a beautiful voice. I glanced over to Edmund.

"Thank you, sir" I said softly, and for the rest of the ride we watched the turquoise diamonds shimmer and shine whilst the sun smiled down upon the earth. Firmin was waiting for me on the dock when we ported.

"And where were you?" Firmin hissed "I was looking for you everywhere"

"I was with the captain, we looked at the ocean, monsieur" I explained, Firmin sighed in frustration and grasped my wrist, yanking me away from the dock and calling a cab.

Firmin obviously wasn't too happy with me.

He shoved me into the cab and slammed the door shut, ordering the driver to take us to the Paris Opera House, he turned to me and grasped my arm. "When we arrive, don't you dare mention that I am your uncle. We are completely unrelated and you only call me 'monsieur' or 'monsieur Firmin', got it? Oh, and don't you even _think_ about opening that mouth of yours to sing" he growled, sighing afterward and turning, mumbling into the glass "we don't want another_ incident_"

-* Paris was huge! Gothic buildings rose high above my head, angels prayed over me, shoppers danced around the carriage, and people laughed. We passed a park and I saw people on picnic, drinking champagne and having bon-bons! Women walked their bichon frise's on golden leaches with ruby studded collars! I held my breath in astonishment as such glamorous things...

I didn't belong here.

I was from the 'bad' side of London.

I really didn't belong in the middle of Paris.

Firmin sighed "you are going to be a servant, Persephone, you will help the stable staff, the kitchen staff, and when you're not busy you will help the servants who serve the singers, you will receive a servant's pay and you may do with that what you will. I will give you a room, but it is a spare room, you must make do, got it?" Hissed Firmin, I nodded loyally.

"Yes, monsieur Firmin" I said softly, turning away from the window for but a moment.

"Only talk to the singers if you are spoken to, do not start conversation with them, do not disagree with them, do whatever they want, do you understand me, Persephone?"

"Yes, monsieur"

"Good" Firmin said, sighing in satisfaction and rubbing his face before putting on white, satin gloves and glancing over to my dress. It was brown and was patched a few times, mum and I had not the money to buy a new one. "You'll receive an outfit when we arrive, you will not be seen working at the Paris Opera House in_ that_"

"Yes, monsieur Firmin" I answered, I felt like a machine, answering the same way every time 'yes, monsieur' or 'yes, monsieur Firmin'.

My mouth unhinged when we arrived at the Paris Opera House, it was magnificent! To even say the very least! Golden angels looked over the Paris Opera House and hundreds of windows looked out to the Paris scene! Firmin grasped my arm when the carriage stopped at the front of the Paris Opera House and he 'gently' pulled me inside. I didn't get time to soak it all in because I was yanked to his office he shared with Monsieur Moncharmin, the other owner of the Paris Opera House.

He called another servant girl into his office named Abelia, he wore short, dark brown hair that contrasted from her pale skin and emerald eyes. She was the complete opposite of me, I carried long, blonde hair and dull, blue eyes that appeared grey at times. My skin was almost completely white (mostly from malnourishment). We locked eyes for but a moment and she smiled to me, I smiled back, she was the first stranger I had ever smiled to! "Abelia, this is Persephone, she is new here, I want you to get her dressed properly and show her around, oh, she is a servant, same as you, dear."

Firmin said, my, he treated her better than he treated his own niece. Abelia nodded, and he thanked her, she smiled again to me and helped me out of his office. We walked in silence for a few moments, I wasn't sure of what to say. "So, do you speak French?" She asked, I shook my head and another pause ensued "are you a mute?" she asked, I smiled.

"No" I answered, Abelia's voice was a deeper pitch than regular women's voices normally are, but, that was okay with me.

"Where are you from?" She asked, leading me down a darkish hallway.

"England" I answered, she slapped her forehead and laughed.

"I should've known from the accent. We don't get many English here, at the Paris Opera House, I mean. So, why are you here?" Abelia asked, glancing at my outfit. I was quiet for a moment, searching for the right words.

"I had no where else to go" I answered, a few more moments of silence engulfed us.

"You don't talk much, do you?" She asked, I smiled and chuckled.

"I'm more of a listener and observer. Talking isn't my strong suit" I answered, thankfully we arrived at a small room which Abelia opened. No one was inside. There were hundreds of outfits on three racks, all the same outfit. A blue dress with white cloth before the blue color, acting as an apron of some sort.

"You can come down here whenever you are in need of a new dress and get one, but, as a starter, you are only allowed seven dresses" Abelia explained.

"There's so many" I whispered, touching the fabric of one, it wasn't especially soft, but it wasn't unpleasing. It was softer than the dress I had on at the moment.

"Most of the staff quit after the chandelier incident, now there's only around thirty of us walking around here" Abelia explained, my brows furrowed.

"Chandelier incident? What chandelier incident?" I asked quickly, Abelia smiled for a moment and then her smile faded.

"It's nothing, nothing at all. The chandelier is fine now, nothing to worry about. Come, let us pick out your outfit" she said, hurriedly pushing off the topic.

"No, Abelia-" I attempted to say.

"Nothing, it's fine, nothing's wrong!" Abelia cried, shocking me. "Please" she whispered "please, just forget about it...please" she added, I nodded and walked over to her, trying on numerous outfits.

-* My first order was to move into my room, which was in the third cellar. The Paris Opera House is seventeen floors high, also with five cellars underground. The first three are used for storage and the last two no one goes in, no one will tell me why. Firmin gave me my room key and a lantern for every day use, he said it was quite dark down there. I sighed and picked up my leather bag and the lantern and headed down into the cellars.

The first and second cellars weren't very bad, scenes and props from operas past were strewn about, I even stopped to look at a few, Firmin didn't care about me, I could spend a little time. The third cellar, however, was a contrast from the first two. Only a few props and scenes lay about and it was quite dark down there, no one really came down to the third cellar so no one ever lit any candles.

I could barely see two feet before me!

I walked along the wall and searched the doors for numbers, I was looking for number 666, oh, how fitting. I was sure Firmin did that on purpose. Finally, I found the door with the golden numbers 666 on the outside. The door knob was rusty and I cut my hand in a few places as I turned the knob, I sighed and gripped the doorknob again, slicing my hand open. I cried out and almost dropped the lantern, but, the door opened.

I hurried inside and almost fell down a few stairs, I held the lantern at eye level and found a kitchen where a few candles sat, unburnt. Using the lantern's flame I gave life to a few other candles, and hurried to the sink, placing my hand under a stream of ice cold water. I winced and cried as the red liquid ran over my hand and down the drain, I opened a cabinet below the sink and found a few dusty towels. Smiling, I shook one of them out and put it under the water, wetting it and applying it to my aching hand. Of course, this was only a temporary solution.

I walked around the rooms, carrying the lantern with me. I found that my rooms consisted of a WC, a kitchen, a living area, and a small bedroom. This room was around the size of the house in Whitechapel. I dropped my leather bag on a small, dusty cot that groaned under the small bag's weight. As I stood in the bedroom; I heard a clatter in the kitchen, my heart froze; who would be down here, in the third cellar?

Maybe this was their room...maybe Firmin was going to have someone kill me...maybe...maybe. So many theories bubbled in my head, each more horrible than the last, I gathered what courage I could and peeked around the corner, into the darkened kitchen to see nothing.

I saw_ no one_.

I walked fully out of my bedroom and eased towards the kitchen "i-is anyone h-here?" I asked quietly, my voice breaking in fear. I stepped into the kitchen to see all but one candle was blown out, and the candle that still breathed was next to a roll of white gauze. Shakingly, I picked up the gauze, someone was in here. Someone was with me, but, I had not the time to think, I heard footsteps fast approaching my door; I turned to the door to see Firmin fuming with a lantern before him.

"What in the hell are you doing?" Firmin growled, grasping my injured arm, I winced and Firmin paused, glancing down to my hand. "You foolish girl, what did you do this time?" Firmin hissed.

"I...t-the d-d-door was l-locked so, I-I tried to get in and-"

"You cut your hand, ugh" Firmin said, sighing in frustration "just leave the door open, its not like anyone's going to steal anything for Christ sakes" Firmin said, I glanced down to my hands and nodded.

"Yes, monsieur Firmin"

"Good, now, I was going to send you to the kitchens, but, seeing as your clumsiness as kicked in already, you are to clean the second cellar along with Abelia; don't you girls talk the entire time, actually clean, do you hear me?" Firmin growled, I smiled.

"Thank you, uncl-I mean, monsieur" I said quickly, Firmin handed me a broom and followed me out, together we walked to the second cellar in absolute silence.


	2. Learn To Be A Servant

_Chapter Two: Learn To Be A Servant_

"It's not that bad, being a servant here, you know. The pay is good and the people are usually nice to us...and now I've got a friend" Abelia spoke, I paused sweeping and looked up to her, she smiled to me and I returned the favor; I accidently grasped the broom with my right hand and cried out, dropping the broom and grasping my wrist. I had forgotten about the gauze!

"What's wrong..uh.." Abelia said quickly, dropping her rag that she was cleaning the floor with and rushing to my side.

"Persephone...my name is Persephone" I said through gritted teeth.

"My god! Your hand!" Abelia cried, stabilizing me.

"The gauze, it's in my room" I said, walking towards the third cellar.

"Why are you going that way?" Abelia said, pulling me away "the rooms are up here" she added, I paused.

"Not mine" I whispered, pausing for only a moment to turn and look at her before hurriedly walking to the stairs.

"Persephone, wait!" Abelia called, running after me and helping me down the stairs.

-* "I can't see anything" Abelia whispered, I smiled.

"Me either" I said, my voice echoed off of the stone walls and Abelia clutched my arm tightly, I guessed she didn't like darkness. I felt the doors until I made out the numbers 666. As I pushed open the door a flood of light attacked Abelia and I, we winced as our eyes attempted to dilate to take in the sudden change of light. Someone had lit all of the candles in my rooms! I took a step forwards but Abelia stopped me, the gauze sat on the floor before me.

A small smile developed on my face and I picked up the roll of gauze, wrapping my hand and ripping the gauze free of the roll. The room was still dusty, but light and more comforting. A few fake paintings and props laid lazily around the rooms, I walked into my bedroom to find that my little leather bag was unpacked and my clothes sat in a neat stack upon a desk on the other end of the bedroom, along with a cracked picture of my mother and I.

It ached to see her face again.

She had only been dead a week, and I had not been granted any time to grieve for her.

And the time to grieve was not now.

I turned from the picture and walked to Abelia who was looking through a few pictures next to a small, red, Victorian couch. I was worried, I didn't light the candles, I didn't move the gauze, and I sure as hell didn't unpack my clothes yet; and if I didn't do it...who did? "Why is your room all the way down here?" Abelia asked, rescuing me from my thoughts, I shrugged, her eyes narrowed, she knew something was wrong. She walked into my bedroom and saw the picture "aw, who is this you're with?

Your mum?" She asked, I followed her into the room and cautiously sat on the uncertain cot. It screamed and moaned under my meager weight.

"Yes, we went to the park that day, it was my birthday, last year." I explained, she nodded.

"What's her name?"

"Her name was Claire and she was wonderful, she did all she could for me" I said, attempting to keep myself composed, Abelia paused and uncertainly asked.

"Was?"

I nodded and sniffled "she uh...she was killed a week ago...she was murdered a block from our home" I choked out, playing with the sides of the gauze and blinking back tears. Abelia gasped and rushed to me, holding me close to her, so close I heard her heart beating. I closed my eyes for a moment and smiled "Abelia, it's fine, I'm okay" I whispered, wiping my eyes and sniffling "I'm here now, I'm better" I added, patting her shoulder and standing, I wasn't very good with physical contact, unless it was by someone I was very, very close to.

For a while, mum was the only one I would hug.

"So, how old are you now, Persephone?" Abelia asked, I turned.

"Huh?"

"You said that picture was from your last birthday, how old are you?" Abelia clarified, I shook my head and smiled.

"Nineteen" I answered "I'll be twenty in two months"

-* Abelia and I talked to each other for the good portion of two hours, then, I heard creaking in the living room, Abelia didn't notice it because she was talking, but, my trained ears (from all the years eavesdropping) picked it up easily. I wondered if it was that person again, it probably was, but I didn't want to alert Abelia, I didn't want to worry her; so, I stayed quiet and nodded along with her story. Abelia looked away as she was talking and I used this as my cover, I peeked into the living room and caught a fleeting glance of the tail of a black cloak. I stood a bit straighter and bit my lip, should I go after the person? Abelia, apparently, saw this too, she grasped my wrist "don't" she said, turning me towards her "don't go after him" she said pleadingly.

"Please, by god, don't go after him! Something bad will happen, it always does when he's involved! Please, don't do it" she begged, falling to her knees before me and placing her palms together in front of her face, like she was praying to me. I heard the creaking again, it was like he was watching us. Abelia closed her eyes and breathed slowly.

"Who?" I asked, heaving her up, she shook her head.

"I don't want to say"

"Why not?" I asked, this was madness! Who is so bad that she didn't even want me to hear their name?

"I don't want you to get caught up in it" she whispered, I started laughing and sat down on my cot, rubbing my eyes.

"Abelia, whatever madness is going on here, I'm already involved in it. Firmin brought me here and gave me the room number 666; whatever you're talking about, I'm sure it's happened already." Said I, she shook her head.

"No, no it's not. But, it will, it will if I don't stop it; you mustn't investigate into this, Persephone, stay out of it...eventually, he'll go away." Abelia whispered, I jumped up.

"Who will go away, Abelia? Who do you not want me to interact with? Please, just tell me a name" I said, the creaking happened again, farther away this time, Abelia didn't hear it, though.

"I can't!" She cried, standing and running out of my rooms.

"Abelia!" I called, running after her, but, she ran into the darkness of the third cellar, lord only knows what happened to her.

-* "Abelia!" I cried, walking around the third cellar, carrying a lantern. The only response I received was my own echo calling back to me. "Abelia!" I called again, no response.

Maybe she made it up to the second cellar and maybe she was okay. I heard a shriek and my name was screamed afterwards, it came from the fourth cellar! "I'm coming, Abelia!" I cried, running towards the stairs, but, the first stair began earlier than I anticipated, I tripped and tumbled forwards, dropping the lantern and falling onto my head and neck. My back slammed the stairs, but no, I didn't stop tumbling, not just yet.

Somehow, in someway, I managed to lean when I landed on my back and rolled down the stone stairs sideways, the back of my head smacking into them. I groaned quietly when my body finally hit the floor of the fourth cellar. I remember breathing in dust and coughing for a few moments, then, groaning in agony. I managed to push myself onto my back and began gasping as the darkness swirled around me.

The entire world seemed to be spinning!

My eyes felt as if someone attached weights to them, for; they fell fast and, as hard as I tried, I couldn't reopen them! For a while I laid there on the dusty floor, breathing quietly and gaining a terrible headache.

A few moments more and I had almost drifted off into the world of the subconscious, when, I felt someone take up my hand and check my pulse. I heard a sigh of relief and then I was lifted up, whoever this person was, they had very long arms and were quite strong. The person's footsteps were slow, yet, their stride was long; I gave a soft groan and the person stopped, then, I couldn't stand it any longer, the pain was too much, I lost my grip of consciousness and fell into the dark pit of sleep.

-* I woke to the slamming of my door and agitated footfall coming close to my bedroom, I had barely the time to open my eyes before Firmin was upon me, yanking me out of bed. I groaned and cried out as he grasped my arm "Firmin! Stop, please!" I cried, noticing that I was almost mummified, gauze covered me!

"We have no time for your games, Persephone, the head of the school of fine arts is here and you are needed" he hissed, yanking me closer to him.

"But, monsieur, I fell-"

"You were clumsy and you hurt yourself, on your first day, no less! You need to go out there and cater to Carlotta, she is without her maid today and she is...oh, just get out there!" Firmin yelled, practically throwing me into the living area. I landed on my hands and knees and Firmin yanked me up again, booting me out and slamming the door shut behind him. I glanced down to my hands and Firmin told me to hurry.

-* La Carlotta was a pompous ass.

Those are the only words I could describe her as without diving into a rant.

I arrived, my arms and hands covered in gauze, a few scratches and a small bruise on my cheek and she looked at me as if I was an alien! La Carlotta herself was beautiful, there was no doubt about that; she carried long, coco coloured hair, chocolate brown eyes, and an hourglass figure with beautifully golden skin that came with a Spanish accent. "What happened to you?" She asked with the air of disgust.

"I...uh...I fell down the stairs" I answered softly as I held her spray she always swallowed after she sang. La Carlotta laughed and turned away from me, to the mirror and powdered her face, she turned back to me and stared at me hard, was I supposed to do something?

"You remind me of someone" she said, standing and walking towards me, I took a step back and she shook her head "no, no, I just want to look at you" she clarified, I stood still and she grasped my cheeks, turning my head from side to side, her eyes narrowed and she poked my bruise with her newly manicured fingernails. I braced and she poked it again, this went on for a while. "I know who your remind me of!" She cried after poking my bruise eleven times. "You remind me of little Christine Daae, so meager, so _weak_; she left the Paris Opera House, she stranded us, but I came back; I was the savoir!"

Carlotta said, pausing and glaring at me, her index finger almost touching my nose "if you even think about singing, It will not end well for you, little one, your pretty little head will be mine" La Carlotta said, she giggled and smiled, turning away and sitting down. "Don't just stand there, looking dumb, go groom my doggie" she ordered, pointing into a large, pink room beside her. I put her throat spray down on her desk and walked quietly into the room, seeing a queen sized, circular bed with pink sheets and a white poodle sitting atop it, wearing a silver and diamond tiara. I sighed and picked up a golden brush that was covered in rubies, I sat on the bed and the dog came right up to me! It panted and sat on my lap, looking up at me expectantly.

I smiled and brushed the dog for nearly an hour before it stood and rubbed against my waist, then, it licked my hand! I smiled and kissed the dog's head, the dog sat down again in my lap and nuzzled its head against my stomach, rolling onto it's back and holding up its paws, it wanted me to rub its tummy. I smiled and gladly did so, making sure not to say anything, La Carlotta was singing. She paused and looked into the room, watching her 'doggie' stand and rub against me happily; I glanced up. "How is my singing, servant girl?

Good? You like?" She asked, stepping into the room.

"Oh, it's magnificent, truly incomparable" I lied, I smiled and she believed me! She nodded.

"It is great, isn't it?" La Carlotta said, pausing "I want to hear you sing, servant girl. Sing any song" she added, I nodded and desperately searched through my mental library for songs, after a moment I found one, mother said she saw someone sing it at the Paris Opera House, at that time Firmin didn't know she was pregnant with me so she wasn't hated...yet.

"_Father once spoke of an Angel, I used to dream he'd appear. Now, as I sing I can sense him, and I know he's here, here in this room, he calls me softly, somewhere inside, hiding. Somehow I know he's always with me, he, the unseen genius_" I sang, pausing after and waiting for a response from the diva. Her dog, however, didn't skip a beat, the dog licked my face a few seconds afterwards and rubbed it's head against my chest. La Carlotta's skin turned from golden to an icy vanilla in a matter of seconds, how ill she looked!

I stood from the bed and helped La Carlotta onto it, as I stepped away to get her a drink she snatched my arm and yanked me back, onto the bed with unprecedented strength. The dog yipped at the surprise and jumped down, hurrying into the next room. I'm convinced that La Carlotta cursed me in Spanish, the words didn't sound that nice, they were harsh and I saw them shred her lips as breathed them out, into the world. "Don't you _ever_, and I mean, _ever_, sing; got it, servant girl? Because that's just what you are...a little servant girl...nothing more.

You're probably even less" she spat. Normally, I can take harsh words and criticism, but, for some reason, her words stung me. I kept a brave face and dished her glare right back out to her. "Don't you give me that look, servant girl, I will not hesitate to wipe it off of your face" La Carlotta added, standing "get out of my room, now, go clean the stables or fall down the stairs" she finished, shoving me out of her room and closing the door behind me.

For the first time in a while, I was ready to commit murder.


	3. Wishing You Were Somehow Gone Again

_Chapter Three: Wishing You Were Somehow Gone Again._

_'Probably even less' _La Carlotta's words repeated in my brain, digging a hole of anger towards her. Uncle Firmin sent me back down to the second cellar, seeing as I was _'incapable of interacting with the stars without causing a fuss'_ as he worded it. My body ached and cracked as I attempted to clean, but my back would snap, my knees popped, and my fingers curled.

I needed rest.

I sat for a moment, I then heard someone panting, I turned to find Abelia standing before me; hunched over with her hands resting on her knees. "Abelia" I whispered, cracking a smile, she flopped down next to me and did a double take, noticing my wounds. "Don't ask" I said before she could get two words out of her mouth, she nodded.

"I won't if you don't, ya know, ask about _him_" Abelia said, nudging my arm, I consented to this and we sat together in silence for the longest time. She sniffed me and smiled.

"You had a run-in with the great La Carlotta, I smell" said she, grinning, I closed my eyes and sighed. I nodded "how was it?" She asked, I turned to her and gave her a frank look, she laughed and sighed "me too" she added, ceasing her laugher.

"Where did you go?" I asked after a small pause.

"I ran down to the fourth cellar on accident and I fell and hurt my leg, I called out for you and heard you coming, but then I heard you scream and when I came to investigate..." she trailed off, my brows furrowed.

"I screamed? I don't remember screaming" I said, she smiled.

"Most people don't, you were probably in too much shock to do anything, you fell down the stairs, after all" she said, I saw her crossing her fingers, she was hoping I would ask what happened next. She looked up to me and sighed. "You were already gone" she finished "when I came to investigate you were already gone" she lied. Her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes flashed all around the room; I decided not to push her anymore, I was too tired and I didn't want her running off again.

"I'm supposed to be cleaning" I said, breaking the silence that engulfed us.

"I wouldn't clean either, with a head wound like that" Abelia said, again, I wore the expression of confusion.

"Head wound?" I asked, Abelia sighed and shook her head.

"You mean, you can't feel it? Persephone, you have a nasty gash on the back of your head...though...it looks like someone's treated it already..." she trailed off, looking at the back of my head. All of a sudden, we heard footsteps and saw the dim light of an approaching lantern, Abelia and I both stood as quickly as we could and grasped some cleaning products, just incase it was my uncle.

And, it was.

He stopped to see me wincing as I dusted and Abelia fall down to her knees and scrub the floor. "Persephone" Firmin said, I turned.

"Yes, monsieur?"

"Come with me. Abelia, you are needed waiting the opera boxes; hurry, Persephone" Firmin said, I leaned the broom against the wall and hurried to the best of my ability. He grasped my hand and pulled me to the surface, taking me backstage. "This is your second warning, young lady, if you start a quarrel with _any_ of the stars I will stick you in the cellars permanently" he hissed, wagging his finger at me, I nodded solemnly. He sighed and stood, walking away to start a wonderfully happy chat with the vice president of the fine arts university. How could he be such a two-face?

How could he be so mean to his own kin?

I shook my head and wandered around backstage, helping where help was needed. As I walked around, I ran into La Carlotta; she wasn't too happy to see me. "Oh, it's you, servant girl. Been singing much?" She hissed, I shook my head and she smiled "good, little servant."

Then, she patted my head and went on her way, a cult following behind her.

I would sing, one day, I would sing and I would tell _her_ off; but that day was not today.

Today, I had to be a servant.

The entire Opera House went completely mental before showtime. Tonight the opera was _'IL Muto'_, an opera they hadn't played in a while, I heard. Carlotta was, of course, the lead. No one needed me during the opera, not one person, so, I climbed up to the cat walk and stood among the set-risers, watching the performance. I shook my head as La Carlotta _sang,_ she didn't sing, she screamed; she couldn't sing at all!

All of a sudden, something caught my eye, near the chandelier. I looked up to see a figure, all in black, and around it was a black fabric.

A cloak.

It was a man, the silhouette figure was a man! Was this the man Abelia was talking about?

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't realize that the crowd was laughing, La Carlotta choked. Literally, she choked.

Her voice wouldn't come out of her mouth, nothing would come out except horrible squeaks and demented groans. I smiled, the silhouette man...he did that...I was sure of it! Everyone was laughing, the crowd, the stage hands, the orchestra, even the other singers! Uncle Firmin rushed to the stage and I heard him utter "damn! Not again!"

I couldn't see the silhouette man's face, but I smiled to him, He turned away from his handiwork; his cloak brushed behind him gracefully and out of the door he went, I would bet my money that he was chuckling. La Carlotta screamed and ran backstage, groaning and running to her bedroom.

Karma's a bitch, isn't it, La Carlotta?

-* After _'IL Muto'_ and serving the cast members I was free to eat and go to sleep. I decided on bringing my food to my room; Abelia followed me. "I still don't understand why M. Firmin would give you a room, numbered 666, in the third cellar. We have plenty of rooms up above" Abelia said, I shrugged.

"He has reasons for everything, I'm sure it's a good one" I said hollowly, pushing my door open to see all the candles lit and a fire burning in the fireplace. I stepped in further to see that all the props were removed, everything was dusted, and there was new furniture! At least fifteen blankets adorned the living area and thirty pillows covered the couch and chairs. I smiled and my mouth dropped, tears tore at my eyes and stung them, like a bee. I placed my dinner of soup and a sandwich on a new, oaken dining table and stared in amazement about the room.

No one had done anything like this for me before.

I didn't know what to feel, all I knew was that I had to abstain from crying. For now.

My bedroom was the most beautiful room I had ever laid eyes upon. The walls were still a dull purple color, but the room was dusted and cleaned, now it was shiny and new! There was a new bed inside, a bed I could easily compare to La Carlotta's! The desk was the same and yet it appeared rejuvenated; there was a new, black dressing screen and a new set of drawers, cherry wood with golden handles. A small, golden chandelier hung from the ceiling.

My mouth wouldn't close as I walked about the rooms, the living room was now adorned with brown, plush chairs and candelabras that were might height! There was a small, black bookshelf on the right side of the room, leaning against the wall that was packed full with Shakespearian literature and poems/songs my an unnamed artist. There was a large carpet with fiery reds and hot oranges swirling about with comforting browns and dark blacks; the carpet was velvet. I stumbled into the kitchen to find a spotless countertop and towels that weren't covered in two inches of dust! I was in a tizzy, the room spun and I had to sit down once more, stumbling into the living area and flopping down onto one of the chairs, sinking into the plush material.

"This is.." I whispered, looking around "this is...beyond words...this is..." I whispered, absent-mindedly letting a tear drip from my eye and roll down my face, falling off of my chin as I smiled at wonderful change around me.

"This is horrible" Abelia mumbled, I sat up quickly and turned to her.

"I beg your pardon!" I cried, standing and feeling a bit dizzy.

"It's horrible! You're staying with me from now on, Persephone" Abelia said, running to me and grasping my wrist, attempting to pull me out of the room. I yanked my arm back and she turned quickly towards me, the expression of surprise plastered all over her porcelain face.

"No! How is this in any way horrible? This is the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me, Abelia, why would you want to take this away from me?" I asked, Abelia shook her head and sighed. She looked up to me and said:

"It is, ultimately, your choice; if you want to deal with him and the calamity and death that stick to him like the pelage, then be my guest. I've tried to help you, Persephone, but you resist me...no more; go ahead, bring the terror upon yourself" her comforting eyes glassed over with tears, it hurt her to say those things.

It hurt me to hear them.

"Abelia, I-"

"No, no, the deed is done" Abelia said, walking up the three stairs to the door and pausing, turning back and looking at me. "Persephone, you are and will always be my best friend, but I'm not going to sit here and try to protect you from something you do not want protection from...I will be in my room, goodnight, Persephone" Abelia said, quietly walking out, I knew it was in vain to stop her. I knew it was in vain to try, so, I didn't. I let her be and watched silently as she left, carrying her dinner before her.

-* I sighed and sat on the plush couch, listening to my stomach thunder and scream, the food sat within my reach, and yet, my appetite vanished.

Clearly my stomach didn't get the news.

After half an hour of waiting, I gave in, I walked over to the table and began munching on a warm sandwich and cold soup. Thoughts swam about my head and slammed against my cranium, slowly giving me a headache. What was so bad about this man that Abelia only saw horror when she looked about this refreshed room? What did this man do to make her say those things about him? Admittedly, it is strange to know that someone came into your room and cleaned, and that the someone might be in the room with you; but, this man, whomever he may be, had good intentions.

That I was sure of.

So, why was Abelia so afraid of my interaction with him?

I pondered this thought until an unseen clock chimed eleven, I sighed and gave up, walking into my bedroom and climbing into my bed, curling into a ball and pulling the covers around my shoulders.

-* I woke at around two thirty, I was sweating.

How was I sweating? It was usually freezing down here!

I sat up and glanced down to find I was covered in five blankets! Two of which were wool, two were cotton, and the other was silken! My eyes traveled down to my feet to find an envelope, I pulled myself out of the blanket heap and took up the envelope, even in the dim light of one candle I made out the shape of a skull for the seal. Gingerly, I opened it and took out a note, there were only two words on the flimsy piece of paper:

_'You shivered' _


	4. Thinking Of You

_Chapter Four: Thinking Of You_

-* At five o'clock, before the sun could rise, I rose and rubbed my eyes. I had gone back to sleep after finding the note, and I dreamt...well, I dreamt of the figure I saw, near the chandelier, the man I figured that was the one doing all these nice things for me. I dreamt he stood in my bedroom, not doing anything in particular, just, watching me.

When I woke I was too groggy to react to the dream, to find it creepy or alarming, I simply yawned and stretched, feeling an extreme urge to fall back into bed and sleep until noon.

But, I did not have that luxury.

I was a servant.

The floor in my bedroom was freezing and I shivered as my bare feet met it, I grasped a blanket from off of my bed and wrapped it around me, hoping to shield myself from the cold of the cellars. Out of my bedroom I walked, to find several lit candles in the kitchen and around the dining table. My dishes from the night before were sitting neatly on the shiny, black countertop, already washed. The plates were already washed! But,_ I_ did not wash them!

The figure behind the chandelier did...I knew he did!

I smiled and stepped up to the dining table to see a hot breakfast of eggs, sausage, a croissant, and two vines of plump, green grapes. I smiled once more and sat down in a chair before the dish, the eggs and sausage were still steaming and the croissant's butter still melted over the top of it, this was made not very long ago.

After my wonderful (and warm) breakfast, I placed the dishes in the sink and procured a piece of paper from my desk, taking up a pen and writing a short note to whomever was doing this:

_'Thank you, so much, for everything. You're the nicest person I've ever had the pleasure of interacting with.'_

I read over the note a time or two, did I write too much? Was this seen as 'flirting'? I sighed, I had no other paper, so there was no rewriting it. folded the paper over and placed it on a small, wooden table before the plush couch in the living area, satisfied, I walked back to my bedroom and closed the door, hiding behind my dressing screen whilst I readied myself for the day ahead.

-* That day, as I was grooming a prized horse, Firmin came in and cleared his throat; holding a handkerchief over his nose. "Yes, monsieur?" I asked turning to him, still holding the brush; the horse turned and nudged my arm, as if telling me to begin again. I smiled and patted the horse's nose.

"Did you, or did you not tamper with La Carlotta's throat spray in any way?" Asked he, his question took me by surprise, he was suspecting_ me_ of doing that?

"I did not, monsieur, I swear" I answered, Firmin glared at me for a moment, then he shook his head and sighed behind his handkerchief.

"You were the last one seen with it" said he, I shook my head.

"No, monsieur, it is true, I held the bottle for maybe five moments; then, La Carlotta told me to groom her dog, and so that is what I did. I put the spray beside her and picked up the brush and then brushed her bichon." I replied, Firmin shook his head again, it was obvious he wanted me to admit to the 'crime' but there wasn't a way I would do that...not now...not ever.

"Perseph-"

"No, monsieur, I did not do it! You know I didn't! Why do you keep pushing me? You know I'm good to my word" I said, looking at him innocently.

"No, no I don't, Persephone" Firmin growled in a hushed tone "We only see each other maybe once a year, for Christmas. Not even that, I don't know what you're like, I don't know what you fancy, I don't know your skills, I don't know_ you_!" He hissed, hesitantly raising his voice above a whisper. Firmin turned from me and rubbed his face.

"Firmin" I whispered, he groaned, still with his back to me "why do we never see each other? We're kin, after all; you never...you never came to see mum and I, no one did. Why?" I asked sternly, I thought I knew the answer to those questions, and it hurt me beyond counting, but, I wanted to be sure of it before I grieved myself too much over it. Firmin turned and shook his head.

"First of all, do not mention that we are kin to anyone else." He growled, then he sighed "you know damn well why, Persephone, you were a bastard child. The child of a once respectable, honorable woman and scum, low-life scum. Your mother dishonored the family, she shamed us, so we disowned you, that much you know; and that is how it will stay. A child does not need to know more" he said, turning and beginning to walk away.

"I am no child, Firmin!" I yelled after him, Firmin paused and turned, striding back to me. "I am nineteen years of age, Firmin, I will be twenty in two months; I am_ not_ a child." I added, fuming. Firmin smiled and bent down to me.

"Have you a husband? No. Do you bare a child? No. Have you been active in sexual intercourse?

No. Therefor, as I see it, you are still a child. A girl does not become a woman unless one of those is achieved" Firmin growled, patting my head, now, just to prove my womanhood, I wanted to scream out a secret that I dared not tell a soul.

Not even my mother knew.

Then, I paused, what if Firmin threw me out? What if I disgraced him as my mother did? Sighing in defeat, I bit my tongue and kept quiet "that's what I thought" Firmin said, turning away; the only thing I could hear for the passing hours as I groomed the horses were his perfectly polished shoes hitting the marble floor.

_'Click, clack, clickity, clack' _

-* All of that day I fumed from Firmin's words, at lunch I sat alone for a while, that is, until Abelia felt so guilty she decided to come join me. I knew she was guilty because I would glance up at her, her cheeks were pink and she rolled her food around, her feet tapped the ground and her left hand's fingers drummed on the table. She wouldn't meet my gaze. Finally she shook her head and rose, nodding to those at her latter table and sitting down across from me, I smiled to her "don't look at me like that" she said, attempting to focus on her food.

My smile widened.

"Stop that, I'm only over here because I feel bad for you" she said, cutting a piece of chicken off of the bone.

"Mmm hmm" I said, still smiling at her; she giggled and then we both busted out into laughter, for; we both knew that those were blatant lies.

"Persephone, I told you that you were my best friend, and you are. Just because we got into an argument, it doesn't mean that I'll stop talking to you" Abelia said, reaching across the table and patting my hand comfortingly. I nodded and we ate our food, chatting about that morning; I told Abelia of what happened in the cellars, the note and the breakfast, but I dare not speak a word of my and Firmin's exchange. Abelia got quite quiet and gave more signs of guilt, she knew something.

"Persephone, I was...I was in the stables this morning and.." she trailed off.

"And?" I asked "how much did you hear?" I added, she turned two shades whiter.

"All of it" she whispered, her lips chapping and turning an ashy colour. She was frightened, frightened that I would walk away or hurt her. I sighed and she cleared her throat "what kin is he to you?" She asked in a whisper.

"If I tell you this, Abelia, you must swear to never tell a soul...living or dead. Firmin would have me kicked out or killed...or expelled to the cellars for the rest of my life." I explained so that Abelia would know the seriousness of the issue. She nodded quickly and swore upon her soul. "Firmin is my uncle" I divulged "apparently, my mum got-"

"Pregnant by someone undesirable" Abelia finished "remember, I heard everything" she added, I nodded and pushed my food away, feeling my apatite shrivel and die away. Abelia saw this and smiled "hey, let's go check to see if he got that note you left" she added, I nodded and we threw our food into the bin, together, we walked, arm-in-arm, down to the third cellar.

-* There was, indeed, a new note on the dining table!

A bubble of excitement was blown inside of me and a smile was painted on my face, I was _so_ happy! The note runs thus:

_'You flatter me. It was nothing, really, you deserved every bit of it. You deserve so much more.'_

I felt my cheeks turn pink and heat up at these kind words. I smiled and happily showed the note to Abelia. "See?" I asked "his intentions are good...and sweet. He won't hurt me" I added, I turned the note back towards me and read it over and over, smiling each time and feeling my cheeks re-heat.

I happily pinned the note to the mirror on my desk, in my bedroom, and turned to find a bouquet of blooming, red roses lying on my pillow! Around the stem on every one of the roses was a bow tied with black satin, all of the ends were cut and they were ready to be placed in a vase of water. I took a large whiff and sighed, I never had the chance, when I lived with my mum, to own a rose unless I found them in a field or passed a flower shop.

Roses were expensive, a single rose was £5!

And if one rose was that expensive...a bouquet had to be a fortune, at least!

Abelia smiled at the roses, but I knew she still didn't trust this man. I placed the roses into a vase filled half way with water and placed it on the counter. "Will they survive?" I asked Abelia, she shrugged.

"I've never had roses before" she answered, I sighed.

"I never have either. I don't believe candle light will suffice for sunlight, do you?" I asked Abelia, she shrugged again.

"What is the harm in trying?" Abelia asked, I smiled and nodded, lighting a few more candles and placing them close to the vase, but not too close as to light the roses aflame. The unseen clock chimed one, signaling that our lunch break was over.

-* Throughout the rest of the day I found little surprises with my name on them! I found the first in opera box number five. Firmin ordered me to go clean the boxes, he said that box five was _'especially dirty'_ and that I need to_ 'spend a good while inside'_; I wondered what the tenants did to that box to make him say those things! Anyways, I walked into box five to find that it was spotless! There was no dust nor speck of dirt inside that opera box!

I stood, befuddled, in opera box number five; why on earth would Firmin say those things? All of a sudden, there was a cold gust of wind behind me, I turned to find nothing and no one behind me. "Hello? Is anyone there?" I asked, stepping forwards, I heard something that sounded like tin on concrete behind me and whipped around to see a small tin of chocolates lying on the ledge of the opera box.

I lifted the box off of the ledge and bit my lip, an action that I didn't know I did until Abelia pointed it out the day before. "Thank you" I said in the direction to which I thought he disappeared; I glanced around once more and deemed the opera box clean, I stepped out of the box and softly closed the door behind me. "Thank you, monsieur, you are truly wonderful" I said, loud enough that he could still hear me if he was indeed inside the opera box.

The second surprise I found was in a snack of mine. I hurried to the kitchen, for; I was shaking badly and my stomach gurgled, that was the last time I would skip lunch! The cook, Hamish, only smiled and hurriedly made me a rainbow coloured sandwich! There were tomato's, lettuce, two types of cheeses, ranch dressing, and turkey was the meat along with a dark brown bread; apparently it sat there for around five moments before I could receive it. As I bit down into it I noticed something was overly- crunchy and my teeth couldn't fully bite through the sandwich!

I slowly let the sandwich out of my mouth and placed it back down onto the plate, Hamish turned. "What's wrong with my sandwich, you don't like?" He asked in a Spanish accent that easily matched La Carlotta's. I shook my head and lifted off the bun and cheese to discover a golden necklace fitted with diamonds! I had to rub my eyes a few times and shake my head, _a necklace fitted with diamonds_, how could this be?

Then, Hamish lifted a note off of the counter before him and read it aloud:

"_'For you, Persephone, like I said before, you deserve it, and so much more.'_"

I nearly fell out of the chair I was in so much shock! Hamish had to help me to my feet, I nodded to him and thanked him, shaking my head slowly to the diamond necklace I held tightly in my grasp. Hamish gave me the note and forced me to eat, he was worried about my health.

The third surprise I found when I was in the lobby of the Paris Opera House, scrubbing the floor along with Abelia, we made eye contact and I crossed my eyes, sticking out my tongue; she laughed and I smiled. I dipped the rag back into the bucket of ice water and shivered, I brought the rag to the bottom of the bucket only to feel something hard, like a rock. My pulse skyrocketed as I brought the object out of the water to see an opal earring, I fell back, onto my bottom and examined the earring; it was like a rainbow was caught inside! Abelia hurried over to me and we both stared at the beautiful gem "well, don't just sit there, find the other one!" She cried, I was so stunned at finding this that I forgot that there were two earrings in a pair!

I found the other easily and brought them both out, Abelia smiled to me. "Put them on.." she faded and then sighed "_he_ wants to see you with them on"

"He does?" I asked, staring at their splendor.

"Why else would he give them to you?" Abelia said, smiling, I nodded and put them in; Abelia pushed back my hair and smiled. "You look noble, Persephone, truly noble." Abelia added, at this moment, I told Abelia about the necklace and chocolates I received. "Wait...wait...Firmin told you to spend a long time in opera box five?" She asked, her cheeks turning pink and her hand on mine.

"Yes...what seems to be the problem?"

"Nothing, Persephone" Abelia growled, I could tell she was angry, she gave a sigh of frustration and her eyes narrowed in the direction of Firmin's offices.

The fourth and final surprise I received is when Abelia and I came down to my room for dinner, we sat in the living area when, all of a sudden, we heard a song begin to play. It was loud and clear, there was some violins and I recognized it as _Die Forelle_. But, I had no instruments or objects to play it with! Abelia and I stood and walked into my bedroom (the source of the music) to see a golden gramophone singing out notes with perfect pitches! A stack of records sat next to the gramophone, some with songs, and some labeled _'free of music, record what you wish'_.

These surprises brought me to tears before Abelia.

She patted my back comfortingly as I cried joyous tears and slowly wiped them away. This was, by far, the best day of my life.

_**(A/N)**_

_**Okay, I know some of you have been asking, Abelia's name is pronounced (Uh-beel-ee-uh) Abelia. That is all :D**_


	5. Twisted One Way

_Chapter Five: Twisted One Way_

-* It was my third day at the Paris Opera House and I was alone, in my bedroom, I had a little time before my work began so I put on the necklace and earrings that man gave me and looked at myself in my little mirror._ 'You look noble...truly noble'_ Abelia's words rang in my ears. She wasn't wrong, I did look like I didn't belong in the caste of a servant. I touched the diamond, I had never touched one before, it was so slick and warm, yet, on the inside it looked as if there were thousands of sharp edges and poking sides.

It was mesmerizing.

I slowly, and regretfully, took off the necklace, locking it around a the felt shape of a woman's neck and chest. Firmin would think I stole it if he ever saw it grace my neck, I stared at the earrings for a long while and decided that I would keep these on, I would only pull my hair over my ears; hiding them. All of a sudden, there were heavy, loud footsteps in the hallway, and my front door was thrown open, slamming against the wall and slamming shut again. As soon as I peeked out into the living area I felt hands upon my shoulders.

I was too much in shock to react when I was thrown against the wall. The person wasted no time in wrapping their hands 'round my throat and holding my body off of the ground, so my feet couldn't touch the floor. I sputtered and kicked wildly as my face turned into a tomato, but this person seemed to have no weak spots! The person was dressed in all black and wore some type of black bag 'round their head with two eye holes cut out.

The person's eyes were black.

They were more black than the clothing he wore.

I deduced it was a man because of his strength and willingness to kill me.

I gasped and the man threw me to the ground, I coughed and hacked; but I was thankful for the air. There was a strange sensation in my mouth and I tasted iron, shakingly I put my fingertips in my mouth and they came out red. I spit on the floor and found that I was bleeding. Before I could work up the air to say anything the man sighed, in his eyes I no longer saw murder, but pity. "I cannot kill someone so young...and beautiful" he said, his voice was deep and he walked out of my bedroom, into the living area.

I heard a strange whistle and the man gasped.

The man's footsteps ceased.

Everything was quiet.

Slowly and with much effort, I was able to pull myself up; using the doorframe. Once I was up and caught my breath I took a few steps forwards, into the living area, yet I still held onto the doorframe.

There were two men. One had a noose wrapped around his neck and the other stood before the dead man in a noose. The man standing and waiting with his back turned to me was dressed all in black, and he wore a black hat and black cloak. The man with a rope 'round his neck wore a black bag over his head with two cut-out eyeholes.

My assassin was dead.

And he was killed by the man who Abelia warned me about.

The man wearing the cloak turned and darted for a black room that was always locked and always darkened. "No, wait!" I cried, stepping forwards and loosing my balance; I fell and landed on my bum, behind the couch. I heard a door shut quickly and the lock turned, the man from behind the chandelier was gone.

And I was left with a dead body.

-* I ran and got Abelia, jogging her down to the third cellar. She too was in her servant's outfit and preparing for work. I excitedly told Abelia about that morning's activities and showed her my neck, two, large, male handprints were perfectly visible. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them a few times, for; I was full of adrenaline! I opened the door (the rust on the doorknob had magically disappeared) and hurried inside, but the body, was gone.

At seeing nothing, Abelia sat me down and gave me a cold rag to place against my neck. "So, who do you think sent him to kill me?" I asked, Abelia shrugged.

"La Carlotta? She did give me a death threat..." I trailed off, Abelia laughed.

"She gives _everyone_ death threats, Percy." Said Abelia, she had taken to shortening my name to 'Percy' as a sort of, nickname. I didn't know if I fancied it or not. "There is another option, Percy, you may not like it, but it is certainly plausible; your uncle Firmin." Abelia suggested, I felt a rock form in my gut.

It was sad, but it was true, he had the most motive, the most means, and the opportunity. Besides, La Carlotta didn't even know my room number! It is sad to think that your own kin, of the few that are left, may want you dead. Abelia saw my sadness and hugged me "it's alright, Percy, don't worry,_ he_ won't let anyone hurt you without justification...he proved that to-day, and you can damn well count on me, if you need anything" she said with a smile, I smiled and nodded.

-* That day I caught Firmin staring at me, I pretended I didn't notice, but this stare was a curious stare; like he was wondering something about me. To me, this only further proved his guilt. Firmin was around me more that day, though, he stood and watched at a distance, he was still there.

The handprints didn't fade away quickly, not even with cold rags pressed against them.

That day, I helped Hamish in the kitchen, we were making a cake for the great La Carlotta's birthday, which was only two days away and a grand ball would be thrown in celebration of it. Everyone had to go, Firmin was even allowing some of the servants to dance! I, however, didn't get any word saying that I was one of the lucky few. Hamish didn't either, but, he was fine with that; Hamish was short and his gut stuck quite over his trouser line. He was never frowning, I would always see him with a smile upon his face and food in his hand!

Hamish adorned dark brown hair with a dark brown, fluffy mustache, he laughed at almost anything you said (even if it was a corny pun!) And was a great friend.

I knew how to bake small pastries and cook a few things, mum and I didn't have many ingredients so we couldn't make much. But now, now I had all the ingredients in the world! Hamish taught me so many things, how to make coloured icing, how to properly make dough, how to make ice cream, and much more! Like I said before, I knew how to make _small_ pastries, but, La Carlotta's birthday cake would be able to feed all the tenants of the Paris Opera House for at least a month! The cake would, when finished, be_ seven tiers_ high!

With pink, strawberry icing, grape icing to decorate, yellow, banana flavored, sugar flowers. And silver, sugar tiaras the flavor of cherries! Hamish would make the flowers, and tiaras, and help with the cake whilst I made the icing and also helped with the cake; now, this cake, obviously, was bigger than just a two person job, so, Hamish had all his sous chefs, pastry chefs, and general cooks helping to make it!

To say the very least, it was a madhouse in the kitchen.

Even though the kitchen was six times the size of my room in the cellars, I was sure there would be a collision of cooks. Everyone was running to different places at the same time, not taking heed of another! It worried me as I hurried about the kitchen, always making sure to fast walk when there was a gap to where I needed to go. Hamish smiled and worked beside me, giving me tips.

He stared at the handprints and sighed, putting down the dough he was working with and turning to me, halting my work as well. He pointed to his neck "what happened?" He asked, I sighed and told him everything; Hamish's grin widened. "Looks like little Percy's got a guardian angel, eh?" He said, I smiled.

"I guess so" I said softly, smiling. In this moment, to get my hair out of my way I pushed it behind my ears, forgetting about my earrings. Without skipping a beat Hamish caught sight of them.

"Oh, la la! Who gave you those?" He said, leaning closer to me for a better look.

"The man...the man who gave me the necklace and saved me this morning" I explained, Hamish grinned and made a heart out of the dough. I smiled and felt my cheeks pinken. Hamish piped up his strong voice and silenced the kitchen, singing_ 'Bella Notte_'. And, soon, all of the chefs joined in to this burst of music and Hamish started dancing with me, twirling me as my cheeks became ever more red.

Afterwards, all of the cooks clapped at their well done singing, which, was very good, better than most of the men singers! "Sing us a song, _bella mujer_!" Hamish cried to me, after all, I was the only woman in the kitchen! I hesitated, remembering Firmin's and La Carlotta's words of never to sing. "Oh, come now, sing us a song!"

Hamish continued, I nodded and they all cheered. "But, what am I to sing?" I asked and they looked to each other in silent thought, finally, Hamish snapped.

"I want to see you sing _'Think of Me'_; La Carlotta prides herself on her voice in singing it" Hamish said, getting closer to me and touching my chin. "I want to see you utterly demolish her voice, I want to hear your voice ring throughout these corridors, and I want her to run out of the Paris Opera House crying." Hamish said, pausing again "do you all not want to see that?" He asked, turning to his cooks and chefs who aggressively yelled their 'yes's' back to him. I laughed nervously, feeling my palms sweat, I had so much pressure on me to sing the song right.

Late the night beforehand, I listened to all of the songs on record that the man gave to me. One of them was_ 'Think of Me'_ by Miss. Christine Daae (now known as Countess de Chagny), her voice was so wonderfully pure and beautiful, I was sure I could never do that, but, upon thinking back on it, neither could La Carlotta. I had given a devilish smile and written down the lyrics to the song, as was often my habit with songs I fancied, so I could never forget them.

Now, one of the cooks struck up a gramophone to just the orchestra playing the song, I gulped and intertwined my fingers before me, sighing. I've only sang in front of singular people before, not a large group such as this! I kept my head down and I whispered at first, Hamish touched my shoulder and nodded to me, I sighed and looked to the door. Hamish cut the music and walked over to me "hey, Percy, do not fret about them; if anyone comes in, anyone at all, I will personally _escort_ them out and take full responsibility" said he with a friendly smile.

"Okay" I said, smiling and nodding, giving a shaky sigh. Hamish smiled and the song started over, this time I felt a burst of confidence bubble up in my chest, Hamish helped me up, onto the counter where I smiled in front of everyone and gave the song all I had. Letting my voice rise and fall to different pitches. I didn't care how loud my voice was, I didn't care who heard, and for the first time in a while, I was stress free! I twirled and danced as I sang, pushing my hair behind my ears, I wanted the world to know how beautiful I could be, I wanted to prove everyone wrong!

I wanted to show everyone how great I was, not just some bastard child, servant girl. But, a woman, a woman with skills and talent, an independent woman who could do anything!

And if that meant being hurt, then, _by god_, so be it!

The last note, that final note, the highest note in the song! That note really showed off my voice and shot my self esteem higher in the sky than a cloud or bird could ever hope to fly!

After I sang all the chefs paused and then threw their hats into the air, cheering wildly, hugging each other, and screaming 'brava! Brava!' Hamish held out his hands and I jumped from the counter into his arms where he and the other chefs/cooks chanted my name thrice and threw me into the air, making sure to catch me on my return journey. All of a sudden, Abelia ran inside, jumped over the counter, and tackled me. "I knew you could!"

She yelled "I knew you could sing!" She cried once again, a tear falling from her eye. We both stood and as the door (it was a swinging door) swung once again, I saw the dark silhouette of the man behind the chandelier clapping, then, he dropped something and turned, his cloak flying behind him as he rounded the corner and disappeared.

"E-excuse me!" I cried, running out of the kitchen and hurrying to the spot where the man dropped something. As I approached, I figured out that the man dropped a rose, but this rose was a white rose with golden lace tied around the stem. I stood to find everyone from the kitchen had followed me outside; I turned to where he disappeared and looked to Abelia, pleading her with my eyes, 'may I go around? May I go after him?'

I kept those questions in my head, only showing through my eyes; Abelia nodded, but, before I could go up one step I heard Firmin's voice yelling for me. He, La Carlotta and La Carlotta's gang hurried after me "go, Persephone!" Abelia yelled, and, heeding her words, I ran; I ran as fast as my heels could carry me. I ran around darkened corners and into ill-lit hallways, only to find myself backstage; before the opera boxes. I heard La Carlotta cursing in Spanish and Firmin's shoes hitting the floor hurriedly so, I ran up the stairs; "stop!

Persephone!" Firmin yelled, watching me run further up the stairs, he cursed and followed me. I ran to opera box five and banged on the door as Firmin got closer. The door flew open and I ran inside, slamming it shut and pressing my body's weight against it, locking it as I did so. Firmin banged on the door and demanded that I open it "Persephone, open the door, _this instant_" he hissed, I remained silent, I didn't know what to say, there was nothing _to_ say.

I sighed quietly as Firmin uttered threats that I dare not repeat...mostly because I didn't understand half of them. After around a half hour of beating on the door, Firmin sighed and slumped against the door "I'm not going to leave, Persephone, not until you come out" he said, I backed away from the door, he had expended all of his energy. I turned to find that the box was exactly how I had left it the day before, spotless. I walked around the little box again, but I did not find the man, I knew he was in there, he had to be! He couldn't just vanish into thin air!

But, there was no one.

I sighed and sat in a red, velvet chair; twisting the rose around, between my index finger and thumb. All of a sudden, I felt awash with fatigue and smelt a strange perfume that reminded me of grape cough syrup. I yawned and closed my eyes, resting my head against the seat, and clutching the rose close to me.


	6. His Angel Of Music

_Chapter Six: His Angel of Music_

-* I woke to feel something on me, it was light, and, as I grasped it, I found that it was warm and fabricated. I groaned softly and stretched, yawning and opening my eyes to see lit candles placed around box five. I sat up and found that I was covered by a blanket of some sort-no, no it wasn't a blanket.

It was a cloak!

I sat up to feel something on my head, I moved my hand up to my head to feel a hat; I pulled it off and recognized it as the hat the man wore! The man from behind the chandelier! I smiled and placed the hat back on my head; in this moment I heard scuffling by the door and remembered my predicament. I would have to sit in box five for years!

Unless...

I stood and wrapped the man's cloak around me, it was strangely cold inside the box. I walked to the front of the opera box and peeked out from behind one of the red, velvet curtains to see the that the entire amphitheater was dark! The moon shone through the windows, and, by it's height, I figured it was midnight or thereabout. I peeked down, below the opera box to see two of Firmin's 'goons' as I call them; they were big, muscular men who could crush someone like me at a moments notice. I shivered at the thought of waking them.

I paced for a while, letting the access fabric of the man's cloak drag behind me; the man was at least a foot and a few inches taller than me, based on the length of fabric that I tried to pick up off of the floor. The man's head was also a bit bigger than mine, his hat kept falling down, over my eyes. I placed the rose in the velvet seat so it would stay safe. I heard a light chuckle as I attempted to pick up the dragging fabric and hold it as I paced, but, that did not turn out so well, I dropped it and almost fell. I heard more scuffling outside of the door and Firmin yawned "Persephone, please, I beg of you, come out" said he, I worked up a little courage and confronted him.

"Why? What will you do to me? Will you try to kill me like that man did yesterday morning?" I growled, taking a step towards the door.

"What in the devil are you talking about, Persephone? I've never sent anyone to try and kill you" Firmin explained, I rolled my eyes.

"It's easy to lie behind closed doors, Firmin"

"Persephone, I did not send anyone to kill you, that much you should know is truth just from my voice" Firmin said in calm frustration. I walked right up to the door and saw an opportunity I couldn't pass up.

"But, I don't _know_ you Firmin, I don't know anything about you. I don't know what you're like, I don't know your talents, I don't know your skills...I don't know _you_." I said calmly, smiling, giving Firmin a taste of his own medicine. Firmin sighed in exasperation and hit his head against the door.

"Very good, Persephone, I see that you're intelligent and you have a very good memory, just, let me in" said he, he sounded weary; his reply shocked me. I expected him to explode with anger and attempt to boot the door down again, this was a pleasant surprise.

"And what, dear uncle, will you do if I do, indeed, open the door?" I asked, I heard him cringe as I called him 'uncle'. Firmin sighed.

"Nothing" he said in a defeated tone. "I will do nothing, however, in the morning, if La Carlotta finds that you are still not locked up here she will request a fight." Firmin finished, I smiled.

"La Carlotta wants a fight?" I asked, unlatching the door and opening it to see Firmin, his hair was messy and his clothes matched. His hair was pointing all ways and his shirt was half way tucked into his trousers, his jacket laid limply on him. "I'll give her a war" I finished, my eyes narrowing.

-* As I turned to place the hat and cloak back on the velvet seat, I found a note next to the white rose. It ran thus:

_'Keep them, I have more' _

I smiled and wrapped the cloak tighter around me, holding tightly to the rose and note. Firmin stared at me silently as we walked back down the stairs "what is it?" I asked, as I looked up to him I noticed that he was half asleep, I smiled and he pointed to his neck, nodding his head towards mine.

"I wondered about your neck all day, yesterday. What happened?" He asked, I sighed and explained everything to him, he nodded and sighed.

"He's chosen you, then." Firmin whispered, nodding and hurriedly walking away from me.

"Firmin! Wait! Why do you walk so fast?" I asked, hurrying to him, but Firmin backed away from me and shook his head.

"Go, Persephone, go get some sleep; you will need it with your war with La Carlotta" Firmin said, hurrying away; why was he so nervous all of a sudden? I shook my head and walked down to the cellars, carrying a lantern before me.

-* When I arrived to my room, I put out the light in the lantern and opened the door, quietly shutting it behind me and placing the lantern on the counter; then, yawning and walking into my bedroom, kicking off my shoes and jumping into bed. Cloak, hat, and all.

-* In the morning, I hung the man's cloak and hat up on a miniature coat rack in my wardrobe, I decided that today wasn't the best day to wear them, since my and La Carlotta's fight was immanent.

That day, I was given pats on the back and praise by _everyone_! A woman from La Carlotta's clan walked up to me and whispered "your voice is amazing", nodded, and walked away.

Hamish requested me again in the kitchen, and, as we worked on the fourth tier of La Carlotta's cake we all heard the tell-tale clicking of La Carlotta's customly handmade, pink high heels upon the floor. I smiled to Hamish who winked to me; the swinging door swung open to reveal the diva herself, in all her glory. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was a shade lighter, as if she had just gone to get it coloured or some such.

I only smiled.

"I warned you, little servant girl, I warned you never to sing! What do you do? You go and sing" La Carlotta growled, my smile never vanished. "Stop smiling, you little brat!" She yelled, loosing her temper.

My smile widened.

"La Carlotta" I started "I know why you don't want me to sing" I continued, tapping the countertop. "You're afraid"

"Ugh! No, no that is not true. Who would be afraid of your puny voice?" The diva snarled, I remained calm with a smile on my face.

"Okay then, why don't we have a competition of sorts. A singing competition. The one who wins gets the spot of Primadonna; no questions asked" I finished, holding my hand out to her, waiting for her to shake it. La Carlotta smiled.

"I admire your courage, servant girl, if you win, I will leave the Paris Opera House; if I win, you must never sing as long as I am Primadonna." La Carlotta said with a devious smile, I smiled back and motioned to my hand, she rolled her eyes but obliged me.

-* "Don't worry, Percy, you'll crush her!" Abelia said enthusiastically as she followed behind me, the day came and gone and it seemed, without any contact from the man behind the chandelier.

"Thank you, Abelia" I said, smiling and biding her goodnight as I headed down to my room, when I reached my room, however, I heard music; but it didn't originate inside of my room, it came from _below_ my room. I paused as I opened my door, it was loud music, very loud, organ music. I knelt down and placed my ear against the floor, indeed, the music became louder!

But, this didn't make sense!

No one lived down there! No one even went down there! I never saw anyone!

I hurried into my room, picking up the cloak, hat, and lantern and closing the door.

I was going on an adventure!

-* In the fourth cellar I could barely see a foot in front of me! The darkness was so thick, I had to hold a hand out in front of me, along with the lantern so I wouldn't accidently hit something, or trip and fall down a flight of stairs. My wounds were healing nicely from that accident, by the way; all of a sudden the music stopped and I paused, there was something that sounded like the person was kicking the organ! I bit my lip and sighed, continuing forwards, perhaps it was stupidity that spurred me on, or, perhaps, the recent, small victory against La Carlotta. No matter which one it was, the real point was that I continued walking towards the origin of the music.

Now the music was soft and I traveled slowly, all of a sudden, my foot didn't feel the floor for a moment, I gasped and fell; landing on my bum. The music stopped again, save, this time, it did not begin again. I looked down to see stairs.

Stairs to the fifth and final cellar.

I pushed the man's hat up on my head, and sighed. I couldn't really figure out why I wore his hat and cloak, not until a few days later; I finally came to the conclusion that I felt safe inside them.

I wondered if the man heard me and stopped playing the organ. I smiled, my, what I sight I would be! A short woman in his cloak and hat, staring down into the cavernous stairwell. I stood and brushed myself off, picking up the lantern again and continuing down the stairs, only, this time, I was much more careful to watch my step. A strange thing happened, as I got closer to the bottom of the stairs, the staircase became lighter, and lighter, and lighter until I didn't need the lantern!

There was a great archway which opened onto an inky black lake! A lake underneath the Paris Opera House! Who would've known?

I was dreaming...

I had to be!

I stumbled forwards, falling onto my knees before where the water began and I placed my hand in the water, watching little waves roll over it. It was real! It was all real!

It was an indoor ocean, that's what it was.

I sat back on my bum and sighed in amazement at this place, now, fast paced organ music filled the air, swirling, twirling and dancing about the candle light; I could practically see the notes! For the longest time I sat and listened, quietly clapping after every performance.

-* By the loud chime of a clock it was eleven o'clock when I finally stood and began looking for a way to get to the other side of the indoor lake, then, then I saw one.

It was a short boat, close to the water's surface, but attached to the front and back were two lanterns. It sat, idle, in the middle of the water; bobbing up and down happily. In this moment I heard a crushing noise behind me, like footsteps on gravel. I turned to find no one, but a note. It ran thus:

_'The cloak rather complements you, however, the hat is a little large. Go back, Persephone, go back to your room and sleep peacefully; I am sorry I bothered you, my dearest.'_

"N-No! I-It wasn't a bother at all" I said out loud "how could you think your beautiful music would be a bother?" I whispered breathlessly. I paused after reading the note, I didn't _want_ to turn back, I didn't _want_ to go back to my room, I _wanted_ to go across the lake and see the organ...most importantly, I wanted to see him. That's when I realized I heard him approach from behind me, so, that ultimately means two things.

1. He's on this shore.

2. There's another way to travel than just the boat.

I stood and hurried around this shore (and surrounding area) only to come up empty handed, it occurred to me that he could be moving whilst I am moving towards him; then, something that felt like paper was dropped on my head. I tilted my head up to see a note drop off my head and no one around me; the note ran thus:

_'Lovely, please, do not be difficult. You will not find me, I can stay hidden as long as I please. I beg of you, go back to your room and sleep, it is not safe for you here. And I, for one, would like you to stay as safe as possible, I do not want my little woman to be hurt. Leave, Persephone, I promise that I will be with you, I always am.'_

I sighed and tapped the note against my finger, I nodded and read the note over again as I walked up the stairs, I smiled, he called me 'lovely' and his 'little woman'. I felt warm and my cheeks pinkened.

I was now in the fourth cellar and I heard something equivalent to me scratching my fingernails on a chalkboard, I turned to find a flaming head! The person's head was literally flaming! I jumped back and almost dropped the lantern, was this what he was talking about when he said it wasn't safe for me down here? I didn't want to wait to find out! I had a tight grip on the lantern and I ran at my top speed, out of the fourth cellar and into my bedroom, slamming the door shut and locking all of the locks.

Putting the lantern on the counter and hurrying into my bedroom, not wasting a moment, and curling into a ball on my bed, staring at the door in fear.

It wasn't long before I received another note.

_'Darling, that was only the Rat Catcher, you have no need to be frightened of him. He will not hurt you. No one will ever hurt you, not ever again, not whilst I am around. Goodnight, dearest Persephone, sweetest dreams to you.' _

I relaxed a bit, sighing, I took his hat off of my head and held it close to my chest. I needed something to hold on to. "Goodnight to you too, monsieur, I hope with all of my heart to meet you one day...one day.." I whispered, holding his hat closer and snuggling deeper into my bed.


	7. Primadonnas

_**A/N**_

_**Before this begins, some of you had questions as to where La Carlotta was from and what ethnicity she is. Well, in the original Gaston Leroux novel and the 2004 movie with Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum, she is Spanish. In the book, Gaston says she is from Spain and in the movie the managers, Moncharmin and Firmin, call her 'senora' more than once. But, in terms of the musical, she is Italian. I don't know why Andrew switched her from Spanish to Italian, back to Spanish, but, whatever it is, it made for some great entertainment! I mean, come on, you have to admit we all love making fun of the great La Carlotta...cro-ak! **_

_Chapter Seven: Primadonnas_

-* To-day, was the day of La Carlotta's birth, and she wouldn't let _anyone_ forget it. To-day was also the day we were supposed to have a singing competition, but, Firmin pushed it off, due to the grand ball that would be held in La Carlotta's honor. I hurried to the kitchen, tying on my apron; only to see that the cake was finished! It was just as glamorous as I imagined it! "Hamish, this is...wonderful, beautiful, oh, this is amazing!"

I cried, running to him and smiling, he smiled wearily, there were dark rings around his eyes and the front of his white, chef's jacket was turned almost completely pink from where he wiped his hands! "Ah, thank you, _bella princesa_, the others and I worked on it all night; I have gotten no sleep!" He cried, throwing his hands up in the air and sighing "but look at her, woo wee! Look at her! She's quite the eye catcher, eh?"

Hamish asked, motioning to the cake, I smiled and nodded. "I've never seen a more beautiful cake, Hamish, this is quite the achievement" I said, Hamish grinned.

"No, _princesa_, an achievement was my fourth Michelin star, this, this cake, this is a feat! A feat of ingenuity! Seven tiers, no one has done that before, _princesa_, no one! It is magnificent!" He cried, I smiled and patted his back.

"You are quite the thinker, Hamish" I assured, he bowed and we all (being the chefs and I) laughed. In this moment the door was opened and in walked Firmin, escorting La Carlotta.

"...And here is your cake!" He cried in excitement, La Carlotta looked hardly amused. Her eyes traveled down the cake, and directly to me.

"Ah, servant girl, have you meddled with my cake? Huh? Slipped something in so I can't sing?" She asked, a grin on her face.

"Oh, no, I would never dream of it, La Carlotta, I am no cheater." I countered, she smiled.

"You've got guts, servant girl, I'll give you that" she murmured, looking over her cake. She nodded "I guess it's good enough" she added, stealing a banana flower and chomping down on it, winking to Hamish and leaving with Firmin. As soon as they left Hamish grasped his chest where his heart was and fell backwards.

"Hamish!" I cried, diving down to catch him, the other chefs reacted as well and helped me pull Hamish to a chair where we attempted to calm him down. "Hamish? Hamish, are you alright? Here, someone, get him some water."

I said, taking off my apron and fanning him as one of his chefs named Mercutio filled a clear glass up with cold water, I thanked him and put it to Hamish's lips; Hamish drank half of the glass before he came out of shock! I sat next to Hamish, when, all of a sudden, he grasped my collar and yanked me down to him, our faces were only two inches apart. "Crush her, Persephone, sing her out of the building and I swear I will make cumin pies and we will throw them at her face...agreed?" Said Hamish, I smiled and nodded, he nodded and let me go "good...good" he said softly, almost like he was talking to himself.

-* After that incident I went looking for Abelia, who was in the ball room, standing on a large ladder, putting up decorations. I stood back and watched for a few moments, smiling as she cheered; I called her name, and I swear I've never seen someone climb down a ladder as fast as she did!

She practically jumped down!

I laughed and she stood beside me, admiring her handiwork. "What type of party is La Carlotta having?" I asked after a short pause.

"A _boule de mascarade_, or, in English, a Masquerade Ball" said she, most of the people at the Paris Opera House spoke both French and English, and so, they were trying to teach me their native language; it wasn't working so well. I knew a few words, mademoiselle, monsieur (of course), mascarade, belle, seour, oui, non, boule, and that was all I could think of; like I said before, it wasn't working so well.

"Were you invited?" I asked after a short pause, Abelia smiled sadly and nodded "but, I won't g-"

"No, you need to go, have some fun, get out, be social. I have to practice for the competition anyways" I paused, Abeila's gaze was pitiful "I'll be fine, Abelia, besides, it's only one party; I'm sure there will be many more" I finished with a smile.

-* The ball was a half an hour nigh and the servants that weren't invited to the masquerade party were instructed to either make themselves scarce or to walk 'round the party serving orderves and small glasses of bubbling champagne. I hadn't received an order to do either. I didn't want to ask Firmin what I would be doing, for; I wanted to go back down to the fifth cellar and gaze upon the inky black lake...even perhaps speak to that wonderful man who hides in the shadows. I knew Firmin would make me walk 'round the party, and that's just want I needed, to be La Carlotta's little pet again. So, most of the time, before the party, I hid from Firmin's sight and hoped he would forget about me.

Heaven knows he has tried.

Sadly, my attempts crashed and burned to the ground when Abelia yelled my name across the ballroom as I placed a small dish of caviar upon the table. I cringed and peeked around to see Firmin striding towards me.

Sometimes, I really didn't enjoy Abelia's loudness.

"Persephone" Firmin started, he held a checklist with all of the servant's names on them, I was going to be banished to walking around the ballroom. I nodded loyally, but, Firmin saw the disappointment on my face "do you have something better to do?" He asked, yet, it wasn't in a sarcastic or snippy tone; his tone sounded like genuine concern. I turned and glanced at him, he did appear concerned! His brows furrowed at my confused expression and then realization passed over his face, he striaghted up "I thought not" he said, then, he walked away; his snobbish, posh air returning to him.

-* The servants who would be walking around the party were given different gowns and tuxedos. Our dresses were all golden and covered in sparkles with black flowers poking out in random places. I lifted half of my hair up and curled it; I thought I looked beautiful.

I thought I heard creaking noises in the living area (we were sent to our rooms to change) and poked my head out of the WC, only to see nothing come to my eyes. I sighed and turned back to the mirror, disappointed. I hadn't received a note from the man to-day! Usually, that's the only reason I got up in the mornings, to receive notes from him. He was so sweet, the sweetest anyone has ever been to me, and I found I developed an infatuation for him-no, not an infatuation-I would like to say love, but, I had never met him before, it would be wrong to say love, and yet, I was giggly and bubbly and gained butterflies in my stomach every time I got a new note.

It had to be love, because, it was (and is) love.

I glanced at my appearance once more and felt that I needed something, something black and drapeish.

His cloak.

That's what I was missing!

But, I dare not wear it, people would, inevitably, step on it and dirty it, not to mention tear and rip the beautiful fabric. No, to-night I could do without his glamorous cloak.

I did, however, put on the earrings he gave me, along with the diamond necklace. It fit the occasion, and they didn't stick out like a sore thumb; they blended with the theme of golden sparkles.

As I shut the door behind me, I heard footsteps coming from the stairwell that led from the fourth cellar to the third. These were not the footsteps I heard of the flaming head (also known as the Rat Catcher), these footsteps were quicker and lighter, and they sounded like, whomever they came from was wearing quite nice shoes. I turned and peeked down the darkened hallway, holding the lantern up, all of a sudden, the footsteps stopped.

I smiled.

"Come on, monsieur! Wouldn't want to miss the party, would we?" I asked, walking up the stairs to the second cellar, the footsteps resumed, they followed me and my smile widened. He was there! Right behind me!

However, he stopped when I stopped and walked when I walked, he was shadowing me. When we arrived on the surface, I placed the lantern in its usual spot, walked a ways away, and turned; there was nothing. I smiled and nodded "fair enough" I said softly, walking to the kitchen to pick up my plate of orderves or piss-appearing champange.

-* There was a sea of people and I was caught right in the middle of it! I attempted to keep to the sides, but, Firmin would glare at me and force me back into the madness.

One third of the night in I had served nine plates with fourteen glasses of champagne each, my head ached too much to do the math. At eleven o'clock Firmin stood on a large staircase that led onto a platform with a smaller staircase on the left and right, tapping his champagne glass to silence everyone. "As we all know we are here to-night to celebrate a great day, the day of our Primadonna's birth!" Firmin cried, he was applauded with cheers and hoots from the mostly drunken audience. Firmin then continued with a speech about La Carlotta, but, my attention was drawn elsewhere.

There was a second level in the ballroom; it was used for storage, mostly. But, it wasn't that, that drew my eye; it was a dark silhouette of a man, a man in a cloak. My heart jumped to my throat and I smiled as my cheeks pinkened, the man was leaned onto the ledge of a small wall that overlooked the room; I saw something glimmer on his side. My attention was instantly brought back to the front of the ballroom to hear La Carlotta's voice, she was thanking Firmin. La Carlotta turned to the crowd and smiled, again, her brown eyes locked on me.

"Monsieur Firmin, I would like to request that someone sing me _'Happy Birthday'_" said the diva, of course, Firmin agreed. La Carlotta grinned and pointed straight to me. "I want uh.." Carlotta trailed off and Firmin whispered my name into her ear "I want Persephone to sing me my happy birthday song" she finished with a giggle. I gulped, but nodded my consent; the crowd clapped as I made my way to the stairs. I looked up to the man to see that, he too, was applauding me.

I felt my confidence boost.

I stood at the front and turned to the diva, smiling and waiting on the music. When it finally did begin, I sang_ 'Happy Birthday'_ my best, exaggerating on some notes, and denoting others. But, when I finished, oh! When I finished! People hooted and cried out, La Carlotta turned white and Firmin took a few gulps of his champagne; I turned to see the man clapping very quickly.

I bowed to him and then to the audience, and lastly, to the Primadonna herself. La Carlotta thought I would be taken by surprise when she asked me to sing her _'Happy Birthday'_ and not sing it well, but, I proved to her that I was ready for her tricks.

At least, I hoped I did.

I grined to her and picked up the platter as the audience dispersed and the dancing began once again.

At the half way point a knife was brought out, into the ballroom, it was time for La Carlotta to cut her cake. The cake was brought out with sparklers poking out of both sides, on all seven tiers! All of a sudden, the cake _exploded_!

Yet, it ended in happiness, because the cake _exploded all over La Carlotta_!

The rest of us went untouched by the cake's sugary goodness.

And yet, the rest of us laughed.

That's when, all of the candles went out at once! Then, moments later, after a short panic, they were all lit again! And, standing at the top of the stairs was a man, a man in a red tuxedo costume with a white mask covering his face, a silver rapier at his side and a red, silky cloak flowing behind him. He wore black boots with black gloves, his hair was combed back and the colour black. He had a bit of muscle tone, not much, but, enough for me.

His mask, however, reminded me of that of a skeleton.

I was stunned, but I was stunned at his brilliant physique, whilst everyone else was stunned at his unplanned intrusion. "Why so silent, good monsieur's? Did you think that I had left you for good?" He said, his voice, oh, his voice! He was an angel!

I was sure of it! He was an angel!

He now began to walk down the staircase and everyone backed away, except for me. Though, the man's sights were set on my uncle. "Have you missed me good monsieur's? I have written you an opera, here I bring the finished score, _Don Juan Triumphant_!" He yelled, throwing a leatherbound book to the ground with the words_ 'Don Juan Triumphant'_ written in golden ink.

"Fondest greetings to you all, a few instructions before rehearsal starts. La Carlotta must be taught to act, and not her normal trick of strutting 'round the stage" the man paused and took out his rapier, pointing it at La Carlotta, oh, how I wanted him to drive that rapier through her! "Our Don Juan must loose some weight, it's not healthy in a man of Piangi's age" he added, turning to La Carlotta's fiancee, Ubaldo Piangi, he was the lead male singer; Piangi was also fat, very, very fat. "And my managers must learn that their place is in the _office_...not the arts" the man continued, growling the word 'office' for added emphesis. He now turned to me, the sea of people who once engulphed me were currently cowering behind me in fear.

He stepped down another stair and I came forwards, not even realizing that I was walking. He lifted his right hand and touched my chin, smiling gently to me; he glanced down to see that I adorned the necklace he gave me. "And now, we must welcome our star, Miss. Persephone" he said, I smiled and he tilted my head upwards, to his. Even though he stood on a stair taller than I, he was still greatly taller than me; at least a foot and an inch taller. "Now that you have seen me...what do you think?" He asked quietly, I smiled.

"I think that you're wonderful" I whispered, he puffed out his chest a bit more. He leaned closer to me and slowly brought my face to his, he wanted to kiss me..._he wanted to kiss me! _Inside I was screaming in disbelief, but, on the outside, my eyes were closed and I awaited the taste of his lips, which, feeling the intensity of his breath, weren't very far away. I sware I heard soft music in the background, perhaps a flute?

A voilin? I didn't know, and at that moment, I couldn't care any less.

Now, a voice peirced and demolished this romantically magical moment. It was La Carlotta, go figure. "Oh, no, no, no, no! You will not ruin my birthday, little servant girl!" She practially screamed, the man wrapped his left arm around me and yanked my body close to his, we were now looking over to the diva.

She attempted to storm over to us, but, the man was quick to end that, rising is rapier to the level of her chest and narrowing his eyes. La Carlotta paused and ground her teeth, glaring at me. "I will expect my opera to be preformed in no less than two weeks" the man growled, now turning his attention to Firmin.

"Two weeks?!" Firmin and his business partner, Moncharmin, cried at the same time.

"Indeed" growled the man. "My allowance has also been neglected to be paid; I give you three days, give it to Persephone and she will bring it where I wish." He paused and smiled, I rested my head on his chest and stared at him with glazed eyes, I had never found anyone so handsome! "I advise you comply, my instructions should be clear-remember-there are worse things than a _shattered chandelier_" he finished, both Firmin and Moncharmin's faces fell in horror as they glanced to one another. The man's eyes shifted back to me and I watched them soften, they were a beautiful black, a glittering black.

He leaned down and planted a very wet, very loud kiss on my cheek; but that, by no means, made it unpleasent. My cheeks heated and I gave an asinine grin, now, he pulled himself away from me, my eyes enlarged and a small smile appeared on his face "do not worry, remember, I am always with you" he whispered to me, his index finger and thumb tracing my jawline and hesitantly leaving it as he walked to the middle of the stairs. Then, again the lights went out, a few women screamed, seconds later, they were all lit again and the man had vanished.

The party ended a few moments afterward, and I walked down the stairs and retrieved the man's score book labeled _'Don Juan Triumphant'_, only for it to be snatched out of my hands by Firmin. Only, Firmin wasn't angry, now, he was in a cold sweat.

He was afraid.


	8. Box Five

_Chapter Eight: Box Five_

-* I don't remember much after Firmin snatched the score book out of my hands, in fact, I-I don't believe I remember anything!

I woke to find that I was in a white nightgown...but it wasn't _my_ nightgown.

My nightgown was plain and horribly boorish, but this night gown, it had to be from La Carlotta's wardrobe!

It was thin, and pure white with a fitted bodice exactly my size! It was complete with flared sleeves that fell down just above my calf and it was trimmed with white lace around the hem and the neckline. It was absolutely stunning! Yet, I didn't remember getting into it, or where it came from! I took a step forwards, out of bed, and noticed that there was a large tear that ran almost the entire length of my leg.

Also, I noticed I wore some strange type of white stockings with white elastic sewn at the top, the tops of them wrapped around my mid-to-upper thigh. Where in the world did all this stuff come from? I walked into the living area to find that Abelia was asleep on the plush couch, cradling a gun close to her chest. Her index finger was around the trigger. "A-Abelia?"

I asked quietly, walking closer to her, she shot up and aimed the gun at me; I jumped back and held my hands up in surrender. "It's just me!" I cried, Abelia sighed and dropped her arm down, rubbing her face with her free hand and yawning. I walked over to her and sat down next to her, she gave a weary smile and sighed.

"You're wondering why I almost shot you" said she, I nodded and motioned to the dressing gown, she shrugged. "I don't know where that came from, you were already in it by the time I arrived" she added.

"What happened?" I asked, again, she shrugged.

"Nothing for you to worry your pretty little self about" she answered, standing and walking into the kitchen, getting a glass of water.

"Nothing for me to worry about? Have you gone absolutely mad? I wake to find you lying in my living room, aiming a gun at my head! And that's not something I should worry about?" I yelled, hurrying after her.

"No" she answered, taking three large gulps from the glass.

"Yes, Abelia, yes, it is something to worry about. What in the hell pushed you to think you needed to sleep holding the trigger of a gun?" I asked, trying to get through to her, she seemed distant and a bit unfeeling. Something really bad must have happened whilst I slept. Abelia attempted to protest once more, but I had it with her.

"Abelia, I have a damned _right_ to know!" I yelled, narrowing my eyes at her; I figure we had a staring contest for what felt like hours, but, in reality was only a few quick moments. She looked away first.

"Apparently, La Carlotta drugged you, remember the champagne you served? Remember the one you drank? No? Well, you did, you drank one, and you liked it; but I wouldn't let you drink any more than one. Yes, this was after that man kissed your cheek, it was after the party ended, you were talking to Hamish and you drank one.

I was going to help you down to your room, but I couldn't find you and I figured Hamish helped you down. But, he didn't. Two hours after the party ended I walked down to your room, to make sure you made it here okay and I found that you were asleep, in that nightgown, and the man, the man that I warned you about, he was sitting on the side of your bed, watching you sleep." Abelia paused and drank from the glass of water, she kept licking her lips too, as if she was nervous. "We _chatted_ and I told him to get out..." she trailed off and smiled weakly to the gun "..he wouldn't without a fight" she finished, my heart fell to the floor and split in half.

She shot him!

She shot the only man who I've ever had feelings for!

She _shot_ him!

I backed away from her, she glanced up to see my terror. "Persephone, I was only doing it for you" she said softly.

"If you were doing it for me, you would've let him be" I whispered, my voice breaking. I turned and ran, throwing the door open and flying down the hallway; Abelia yelled for me and attempted to catch me, but her attempts were in vain. I was faster than she. I was running for the inky black lake surrounded by candle light, that beautiful lake...one of the only havens I had left.

-* When I finally saw the beautiful, glimmering lake I barely had any breath left with me! I fell to my knees and then fell back on to my bum and attempted to catch the oxygen I so desperately needed. However, when I did finally grasp that oxygen and pull it into my lungs, I stood and looked around, hoping to spy the man, the wounded man. "Monsieur?" I asked "monsieur, please, are you alright?

Are you in need of medical attention?" I added, I waited a while, but received no answer. I bit my lip and felt a tear slip over my eyelid, falling down my cheek and dripping off of my chin. "Monsieur, please, do something to tell me you're alive" I whispered, covering my mouth afterwards and trying to convince myself not to cry, but as I closed my eyes, two drops of salty liquid escaped and fell onto my beautiful, new gown. A few moments afterward, I heard soft music, soft and slow organ music; almost melancholy.

I laid back with a smile upon my face, sighing and thanking gods that I hadn't believed in for the longest time. He was alive! He might be wounded, but at least he's alive! Now, I heard a fluttering and glanced over to see a note had fallen not to far away from my hand! I quickly sat up and grasped it, eagerly opening it and consuming the words therein. The note ran:

_'Box five, go to box five, now'_

Without hesitation, I got to my feet and ran, I ran as fast as I could back through the cellars and to the surface. At the surface, I did not slow, even when Firmin and Abelia were yelling for me and chasing after me. I ran until I was heading up the stairs to box five, and even then, I walked with a sense of urgency. My face burned and I was sucking down air by the time I was knocking on Box five's door; it opened without trouble and I fell inside, literally. A moment or so after I hit the ground I felt two hands grasp the underneath of my arms and heave me up, dragging me to a velvet chair and setting me down very gently.

The man gave a few soft grunts of pain as he eased into a brown, wooden chair. I stood, still breathing heavily, and walked over to him, I smiled and attempted to see his face, but his face was veiled by a shadow and all I could see were his eyes, they were now the colour yellow! This was a small shock, I've seen much, much scarier, more astonishingly horrible things in my lifetime, however. I knelt down, sitting on my knees before him and he sat up a bit straighter; I glanced over to see the cursed bullet wound itself; there was a small, circular tear on his right side stomach, though, as I looked more closely at it, I saw that his wound was already treated. "I'm sorry" I whispered "I'm so sorry for her actions, she had no right to hurt you...you weren't hurting me...she had no reason to-" he interrupted me by placing a gloved finger against my lips, he smiled and grasped my hand, using me to help him stand.

I stood with him, he groaned but stood proudly before me; he sighed. "You need not be sorry, Persephone, you did not do this, you did not even have a hand in this. Do not fret for me, my dear, I heal quite quickly, you will see. For now you will remain here, I do not trust Abelia's judgment any longer." Said he, he ghosted his fingertips over my cheek, but he did not fully touch it as he had done the night before; it was almost as if he was _afraid_ to touch me.

I smiled to him and touched his hand before wrapping my hand around his; he looked a little nervous, but he gave a weak smile and interlocked our fingers. I stepped closer to him and broke our hands to wrap my arms around him, he gave a small grunt and held his arms up, as if he was surprised. My head rested on his chest, as it had the night before, and I held him close, listening to the elevated beating of his heart. For once in this Opera House of uncertainties, I felt safe. After a few moments of bewildered confusion, he laid his arms down again, holding me loosely so that if I fancied to let go, I could do so without a hassle.

But, I did not want to let go.

I never wanted to let go!

I squeezed him a bit harder, he braced; I forgot about his bullet wound! I loosened my grip and he gave a quiet sigh, I could just barely hear it. Now, even from box five, I could hear La Carlotta yelling at Firmin; the man tapped me and nodded towards the curtains with a smile. We only peeked out to see La Carlotta screaming that someone took her doggie; I looked over to the man to see a devilish smile upon his lips.

He did it.

I gave a quiet laugh and he grasped my hand, slipping his fingers between my own. La Carlotta stormed off of the stage and Firmin sat down, rubbing his face in agitation, I laughed again, maybe a little bit too loud, for; Firmin glanced up and the man pulled me back, quickly closing the curtains. We both looked at each other and busted out in laughter; Firmin deserved every bit of hell he got! Still holding my hand, the man pulled me to one side of the box and lifted another curtain to reveal La Carlotta's bichon fresie! I giggled and the dog ran out from where it was sitting and jumped on me, causing me to fall to the ground, back first, and licked my cheeks.

The man grinned.

-* The man, La Carlotta's dog and I all spent a few hours together in box five; occasionally the dog would wander back behind the curtain, but only for a moment, and then it would return. The man kept pushing our conversations back towards me, especially when I asked questions about him. "So, what do I call you? Because, I think, 'the man' is getting a bit old" I said, he chuckled and shrugged.

"Whatever you want, my Angel of Music" He replied, stroking La Carlotta's bichon. "About where you lived-"

"No, no, I want to know what you fancy me to call you" I said, stopping him in his tracks.

"Anything" he said, again. I gave him a frank look.

"You must have a name"

"Not one that I enjoy" the man growled, standing with his back to me; I sat in the red velvet chairs, next to the one he had just stood from. I was quiet for a moment and he turned, looking at me from head to toe. "Opera Ghost" he said.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Opera Ghost...they call me Opera Ghost"

"And...you want me to call you Opera Ghost?" I asked, he walked over to me and bent down, pushing my chin towards his face with his index finger and thumb. He hesitated for a moment.

"Yes" he said before leaning closer to me and stopping before my lips, he held his breath and then moved to my cheek, reluctantly connecting his lips to my cheek; I closed my eyes and smiled. His lips were cold, very cold, but that didn't matter. As soon as his lips disconnected I stood on the velvet chair and jumped into his arms; he grunted, but stood firm and held me close. I wrapped my arms around his neck and encased my legs around his upper thighs; smiling as he sat down in the wooden chair.

-* He didn't want me to leave box five that day, to stay fully under his protection; but, that was impossible. I had to leave to eat and use the WC. When lunch rolled around and I walked to the kitchen, I spotted La Carlotta who grinned devilishly and called my name, silencing the room. "You know, servant girl, we still need to have our competition, why not now? Come, everyone who wants to witness me causing this little brat to cry, to the stage!"

She cried, snapping her fingers and walking to the stage, I sighed.

I just wanted something to eat!

_**A/N**_

_**I apologize if this chapter's a little short, I wanted to go ahead and get it out because I am planning on making Christine's wedding dress from the Final Lair scene (I know it's January and I'm already planning for October, but, I like to be prepared! And it will take a while...considering that I've never sewn...ever.) Anyways, I'll be on my regular update schedule tomorrow and the rest of the week (hopefully, school really sucks) and then, when I get the fabric, I will begin on the dress! I'll give you all due notice when I'll need a little time to focus on the dress. Good day! :D**_


	9. A Competition Of Sorts

_Chapter Nine: A Competition Of Sorts_

-* I panicked as La Carlotta sang, not because she was good (because, she wasn't) but because my stomach would not stop rumbling!

La Carlotta and I both were to sing _'Think of Me'_ and, after the song was preformed by both singers, the audience would write down their pick and the votes would be tallied. The vote talliers were Abelia, a woman named Amaryllis, and a man named Jocard. Jocard was a fellow servant and Amaryllis was a ballet dancer who normally had no opinion on anything.

I peeked out from behind the curtain to spy box five, the Opera Ghost's silhouette sat patiently in the brown chair, his hands were together on his lap and he watched the diva's performance calmly. I glanced down from him to the audience to find that most of the members had stuffed cotton pieces into their ears! I smiled and gave a small giggle, no one ever did that when_ I_ sang! On the last note La Carlotta screeched and I hurriedly pulled my hands to my ears, hoping to shield them from the wretched noise. A moment or two afterwards and everyone was silent, no doubt recovering from the diva's highest pitch.

The crowd applauded and La Carlotta walked backstage, cocking an eyebrow and smiling smugly. "Try to top that, servant girl" she said with a wink.

"I intend to" I countered, without missing a beat. La Carlotta's eyebrows raised in surprise, she nodded and took her place backstage whilst I occupied the stage, before the audience. They clapped and I saw most of the members retrieving the cotton that was stuffed in their ears. I smiled and the music began, I started off soft and then rose and rose, fluctuating my voice and (hopefully) making it appeal to the crowd. When I hit the highest note, however, in contrast of La Carlotta, the cotton pieces fell to the ground, as well as the audience member's jaws!

The audience stood and clapped wildly, they threw me flowers!

I had never been thrown flowers before!

I bowed and thanked them, taking up a handful of flowers and bowing to opera box five. I walked backwards and the curtains were pulled, but, we all still heard the crowd cheering. Hamish ran to me and enveloped me in a hug, we smiled and bounced together, they loved it, they loved _me_! One of his cooks, however, pulled him away, he was needed to help with a feast that would be held in either my or La Carlotta's honor. That was fine with me, I hurried away, back up to box five and opened the door to see that the Opera Ghost was gone!

He vanished again!

I called his name and hastened around box five, only to find a note in La Carlotta's bichon's mouth. It runs:

_'Truly awe-inspiring brilliance, Persephone, I will return later.'_

I sighed and carried the note back down the stairs with me, making sure to close the door as I left box five, not desiring La Carlotta's bichon to flee.

I returned backstage, pacing in my anxiousness. I knew I won, I_ had to_ have won! The audience stuffed cotton in their ears during La Carlotta's performance and took it out during my own! I had to have won!

-* After half an hour of waiting the three vote counters came out and La Carlotta rushed to them. "So, what is it? Who won?" She asked frantically. The three remained silent and Abelia grasped a small tiara that was made to symbolize the Primadonna.

She paused before La Carlotta and I felt my heart sink, La Carlotta gave a devilish smile to me and began her thanking speech, only, the tiara wasn't placed on her head.

It was placed on mine!

I gave a small squeal of delight and, Hamish, who was watching this, again ran to me and lifted me onto his shoulder whilst everyone shouted "hurrah, hurrah!"

Then, something unexpectedly horrible happened.

Firmin had been watching this from afar, and now he stepped up and Hamish set me back down on the ground, the tiara sparkled on my head as La Carlotta's make-up ran from her eyes.

Firmin was expressionless.

He was expressionless as he yanked the tiara off of my head, pulling some of my hair with it, and placed it back on La Carlotta's head. The celebrating crowd and I all gave a collective question of "what?" Firmin grasped my arm and tired to haul me away, but, Hamish grasped my other arm and started playing tug-of-war with Firmin.

"Let go, Hamish" Firmin growled, Hamish shook his head.

"Whatever you need to say to her, you can say to us. We deserve to know why you ripped her well-deserved tiara off of her head; you saw the audience Firmin! They covered their ears with cotton as Carlotta sang, yet, they stood and craved an encore with Miss. Persephone!" Hamish growled, yanking me back and pushing me behind him. Hamish is also very protective of his friends.

Firmin stepped closer to Hamish, trying to intimidate him, but, Hamish puffed out his chest and took up Firmin's intimidation challenge. "Persephone is a _servant,_ no more, and no less. May I remind you that I never agreed to make whomever won this challenge Primadonna? It was only decided upon by Miss. Persephone and La Carlotta." Firmin hissed, getting dangerously close to Hamish.

"But you were there" Hamish growled "you saw them make the challenge, and you had no objections to it!"

"Ah, monsieur Hamish, but I also did not agree to it" Firmin said, straightening back up. "The Primadonna will be La Carlotta until further notice, and _Miss. Persephone_ will stay a servant." Firmin ordered "all consequences of the challenge and the challenge itself is terminated, good day to you all" Firmin finished, turning and storming back to his office. La Carlotta cackled and all breath was stolen from my lungs...how could he be so cruel?

How could a man so rich, with everything, be so petty and so hellish to take it away from someone who has virtually nothing? How dare he?

Tears gathered in my eyes from not understanding why Firmin did what he did, and the general shock of the situation. La Carlotta had begun gloating again and time slowed, Hamish had begun asking me if I was alright and most of the people in the crowd were looking to me; I looked up to see La Carlotta wearing a sharp toothed grin. She reminded me of that man-eating fish Captain Edmund told me of on my journey here; I wouldn't allow her to eat me, not without a damn good fight. I narrowed my eyes and she began making crying noises and instantly my tears burned away and were replaced by feelings of anger and hate.

Hate, not a feeling I had ever used to describe anything before, but, I had never met anyone more terrible besides La Carlotta and my uncle Firmin. I took a few steps towards the great La Carlotta and balled both of my hands into fists, squeezing them so tightly I could feel the skin over my knuckles cracking and tearing. When I was two steps away from the Primadonna I readied my right fist and raised it to the level of my shoulder, packing all of my strength into my elbow and throwing my fist directly at her 'perfect' nose.

She fell like the giant fell from the beanstalk and she fell holding her nose.

She moved her manicured fingers and I saw her nose was both bleeding and crooked!

I _broke_ La Carlotta's nose!

I smiled devilishly to her and let my right arm rest at my side; her clan helped her up and pulled her away to her room, but, our eyes never disconnected until she 'rounded the corner that led to the other rooms for the performers.

Now, I had to deal with Firmin.

As I made a movement towards his office, Hamish grasped my arm and time sped up again. "Persephone, please, don't do anything you're going to regret" said he, I nodded and assured him I wouldn't.

-* Firmin was standing with his back to the door, admiring a picture with a glass of brandy in hand when I arrived. "I expected you a bit sooner" said he, but I remained silent, closing the door after me. Firmin turned to me and I saw that the picture he was glancing over was a picture of our family, my mother and I weren't in the photo. Firmin sat at his desk and sighed, downing the entire glass of brandy and pouring another, hastily sipping from that one. For a while Firmin and I stared at each other, we stared until I worked up the courage to cry.

"How could you?" I asked quietly "how could you take this opportunity away from me, Firmin?" I asked, my eyes were glassy, but I wouldn't allow a tear to fall, not yet. Firmin sighed.

"Do you remember that day, do you remember your eighth birthday?" He asked, drinking his second glass of brandy and pouring yet another. I felt a shockwave run through me and my brows furrowed.

"How do you know of that day?" I asked, Firmin sipped on his third cup and continued, ignoring my question.

"You and your mother went to the park, as was your tradition, and you sang. For the first time in your life you set your voice free and everyone applauded you, you were a beautiful singer...you still are" Firmin said, my mind boggled. None of this made any sense!

"If you think I am a beautiful singer, Firmin, then _let me sing_" said I, enunciating on the words 'let me sing' to further drive my point to home with him. Firmin sighed and threw his cup behind him, causing it to shatter on the floor. He uncorked the bottle of brandy and began drinking from that!

"You and she spent all day at the park, you got a chocolate cupcake with pink, strawberry icing; it was your favorite. You got your face painted like kitten and your mother gave you a powder blue collar for the kitten she promised would be your present; you just had to have patience. But, that kitten never came. The little kitten she explained to you that would be as black as night with beautifully blue eyes that would make the sky curse in disrepute at the vibrancy of their colour; the sweet little kitten who would never harm you, and lick your tears away with its soft, pink little tongue. That kitten never came...it _never_ came" Firmin said, fading into a whisper, how he knew all of these things escaped me; and most of all, worried me.

"Firmin, whatever you're attempting to do-"

"It never came" Firmin repeated and took another swig from the brandy bottle, taking several large gulps. "Something else did...however." He said softly, looking up to me with glazing eyes; I was numb all over, my legs shook and my hands trembled, my fingertips turned ice cold, yet, my cheeks turned pink.

"F-Fir-"

"You did" Firmin finished, placing the bottle on his desk and looking up to me. "You did" he repeated, softer this time. Firmin reached down and opened a drawer, I heard something jingle and on his desk he placed a little, powder blue collar that was dirt stained in some places, upon his desk; he pushed it to me and nodded to it. I picked it up and saw that it was, indeed, the same collar I received on my eighth birthday; the collar jingled in my hands as I turned it over and over, finally observing the little, golden tag with the name I had gifted upon the kitten. 'Hope' was the name I bestowed upon the imaginary kitten, she was the hope I never received, little did I know, when I was a child, that this event would foreshadow the loss of hope I gained that day.

The loss of hope of a better life, the loss of hope for innocence.


	10. Poor Fool, She Makes Me Laugh!

_**(A/N)**_

_**Okie dokie, did last chapter confuse anyone? A show of hands? Ah, I see a few. It will all come in due time, dear readers; though, I gave plenty of hints! I'll even name a few to help you out. **_

_**Firmin's drinking, 'loss of hope for innocence', and her shaking badly; help anyone? Still a little confused? As I've said before, due time. Then again, it makes me giggle how some couldn't get that very last hint I threw in there! I was sure the surprise would be blown by now! **_

**_But, apparently, the cat is still in the bag and hiding quite nicely, I presume. To those who are still a bit boggled, I encourage you to glance back at the last paragraphs of 'A Competition of Sorts' (the latter chapter) and think on them...think on them hard. Then again, I do realize that some of you on here are not familiar with slang terms and so I would be happy to oblige you via PM message if you still do not quite fully grasp it; this is, if you want to spoil my end surprise!_**

_Chapter Ten: Poor Fool, She Makes Me Laugh!_

-* "How do you know of that day? How do you know so many specifics of that day? You were never in contact with mother" I said breathlessly, Firmin remained silent. All of the signs pointed to one thing.

He had to have been there.

He had to have seen it.

I felt ill and the urge to vomit became overwhelming.

I backed away from Firmin, rushing out of his office and to the WC, clutching the powder blue collar close to me. I hadn't time to reach the chamber pot, so, the sink sufficed; and within moments my guts laid before me in the cold, while, porcelain sink. Disgracing my eyes with their disgusting colour. As I vomited again I felt my hair lifted from my shoulders, I glanced over to see the Opera Ghost, on hand holding my hair and in his other hand was a dripping rag.

-* He carried me out of the WC and to my bedroom after my vomiting fit ended, where he laid me down on my bed and stroked my hair as my eyelids drooped. He stood quietly and told me he had _'business to attend to'_; with a pat to my head and a soft kiss to my hand he left, making sure to close the door tightly behind him. I closed my eyes and breathed calmly, slowly, images from my eighth birthday surfaced, my heart rate increased and my breathing became heavier, I could feel myself tossing from side to side as the images tormented me. Image after image after image! They came like punches, one after another, and they didn't stop until my eyes shot open and I screamed.

I sat up and looked around, finding that I was still in my room, but, the clock struck seven, seven o'clock in the evening. I stood and found that I was trembling, I sighed, I was in need of fresh air. I wrapped up in a black shawl and left my rooms, taking my time in climbing back up to the surface. When I reached the surface, however, I was grasped my several people, one including Abelia. "What in the devil is going on?"

I growled as I was pulled into a spare dressing room and sat down in a chair. "Abelia, what is going on?" I asked again as a few women servants ran around frantically behind me, Abelia said to them what my dress size was and I was pulled up from the chair and a few women hurried with me behind a dressing screen, taking off my clothes and helping me into the Countess costume! "What?" I whispered as the women hurried me out and to hair and make-up.

-* After I received a huge, white wig upon my head I was pushed out and ordered to go to the curtains as fast as my heels would allow me. Something was wrong, but what? As I walked to the stage Moncharmin rushed to me and grasped my shoulders "Persephone, do you know the lyrics to _'Poor Fool, He Makes Me Laugh'_?" He asked in a frantic tone, I nodded to the best of my ability, he gave a sigh of relief "good, great! You know how to sing it, do you not?"

He asked quickly, again, I nodded. He clutched his chest where his heart was "we're saved then" he whispered under his breath, he turned to me and smiled, now, I heard the chatter of hundreds of people and I realized;_ we were putting on a show_! We were going to perform_ IL Muto_! As Moncharmin turned from me I called his name again "what's happened, Moncharmin? I don't know what's going on, they just pushed me into the room and dressed me like this, what madness ensued whilst I slept?"

I asked, grasping his hand, he sighed and smiled pitifully to me. "Firmin is...on holiday" Moncharmin said hesitantly, as if he was trying to choose his words carefully. "And La Carlotta refuses to perform with a broken nose, naturally, you were our next choice; because of your voice, I mean." Moncharmin said, straightening his bow tie and smiling "you're on in four moments, my dear, don't fret, you'll do wonderful!" Moncharmin said excitedly, then he whispered "I took up your side in the competition" he then winked and walked away, to tend to something else.

-* I was so anxious as I sat upon the pink fainting couch, fanning myself with a pink and feathered fan as three singers ran onto the stage whilst other singers behind me pretended to be dusting the set. I gulped and my hand shook, that is, until I glanced out into the crowd and saw that box five was occupied. By whom, I couldn't see, I assumed it was the Opera Ghost and relaxed a bit. Another singer, Jocelynn, sat beside me, she was in the silent page boy costume. Piangi played the part of the old Count, and, surprisingly it went...smooth.

My heart raced the entire time I sang, I tripped only once, but when I did, I was walking back to the fainting couch anyways; I hoped it looked intentional. There must have been a thousand people in the Paris Opera House's amphitheater that night! We made jokes upon the stage, just small jokes, Piangi said that he would happily take the maid with him to England and everyone laughed! I thought of a type of comeback and quickly said it, hiding my face with the fan from Piangi "the old fool is _leaving_" I said loudly and the crowd busted into laughter! I smiled and the applause spurred me on!

Throughout the song (and show itself) we all made little jokes on one another, and, after I sang, the crowd got to its feet and cheered! Some throwing flowers, some asking for an encore, and some yelling their praise! I had only been this happy once in my life, and it was when the Opera Ghost showed himself at La Carlotta's birthday party.

-* We all ran backstage after bowing to the crowd and Monsieur Moncharmin rushed to me, hugging me and lifting me off of the ground during this hug. We laughed and Moncharmin gave me even more praise! Moncharmin put me down again and two woman came to me, bearing one bouquet of roses each! One bouquet of roses had black lace tied around each stem, whilst the other bouquet had no lace, I smiled, I knew at least one of them was from my Opera Ghost!

Wait a moment..._my_ Opera Ghost?

I just claimed him as mine...

He_ was_ mine!...Wasn't he?

I changed back into my dress and took up both bouquets and sang the laughing part of _'Poor Fool He Makes Me Laugh'_ as I walked down to my rooms. But, as I was walking I heard an extra set of footsteps, and these were not like the Opera Ghost's quick step, nor clumsy and slow, these were stealthy steps; as if the person was trying to stay hidden from my view. My anxiety rose a bit, but I continued singing, trying to calm my nerves and convince myself that it was nothing; I finally reached my room and hurried inside, locking the door afterwards.

-* I didn't hear anything for a while, that is, until I began to sing again, after a short bath. I smiled and giggled "Opera Ghost, I know that's you, you can stop hiding now!" I called, smiling and making myself a cup of tea. There was no reply, I smiled "Opera Ghost, come now! You're just trying to frighten me-" I was stopped dead in my tracks by a man, he stepped out from behind a purple curtain that sat beside the brown, plush couch.

He wore a dark, navy blue evening suit and a dark, navy blue top hat with a bow tie to match. He held a bouquet of pink, Juliet Roses! He was a brunette with warm, hazel eyes; he was clean shaven and had an element of attractiveness to him. His cheeks were flushed a slight pink and he glanced up at me a few times as he bit his lip, he was embarrassed! Then again, he _was_ hiding in my room!

"I'm sorry, mademoiselle, I-I'm sorry for intruding upon you, b-but, I saw your performance a-and.." he sighed "and, I felt I needed to g-give these to you myself" the man smiled and held out the bouquet to me. I was stunned, not just by the intrusion, but by the flowers! Juliet Roses don't even sell in flower shops! They're worth three million pounds a bouquet!

"Wow" I whispered, I stepped towards him and he straightened up, holding his top hat close to his chest. "Thank you...I...I don't know what to say" I added, taking up the bouquet, the man smiled proudly and took up my hand in his, falling down to one knee and kissing the top of my hand.

"My name is William, William Alexander, nephew of Count Raoul de Chagny." He said, kissing my hand a few times more. I smiled.

"My name is Persephone, Persephone Kardine, niece of Andre Firmin" I introduced myself, William smiled, his eyes shined in the candle light.

"Persephone...what an elegant name" he said, I smiled and felt my cheeks begin to pinken.

"My mother gave me that name"

"Did she also give you your heavenly voice, mademoiselle?" William asked, standing and helping me over to the couch.

"You flatter me, monsieur"

"I only speak the truth, mademoiselle"

"It is flattery-"

"It is truth" William interrupted, holding my cheek and smiling, showing off teeth as white as a fluffy cloud on a warm, spring day. I quickly snapped out of whatever I had gone into and cleared my throat, standing.

"Thank you, monsieur, truly. You didn't have to get those for me, but, now monsieur, I must rest. It has been a very trying day, to say the least. Here, take the lantern, I know my way around now, again, thank you, monsieur." I said, hurrying to the lantern, William stood and followed me; he stood very close to me as I turned with the lantern, he leaned close to me and I hurried away from him, to the door and opened it, holding out the lantern.

"Again, thank you, monsieur. But, I need rest" I said, more stern this time, William nodded and took up the lantern.

"Good night, mademoiselle, sleep well" he said before leaving.

"Good night, monsieur, I will, thank you"

-* After William left, I felt strange. I felt as if in some way I had betrayed my Opera Ghost, but...I didn't...did I? No! No, I didn't! William was only a passer-by, an infatuated fan, a pretty face.

Monsieur Opera Ghost was the real deal, the one who really cared for me. Monsieur William only wanted a fling, Monsieur Opera Ghost wanted a relationship...or...did he? I sighed, I was weary and I do not think correctly when I'm weary. I blew out the candles in my living area and wandered into my bedroom to find yet another bouquet of roses with black lace tied around the stem laying on my pillow, as they had been before. I smiled and fell into bed, wrapping my arms around the roses and sniffing them, I sighed and grinned, they were the most beautiful thing I had ever smelt!

"Goodnight, Opera Ghost, you will forever be in my heart...and my dreams" I said, placing the bouquet of roses beside the bed and blowing out a candle, curling into a ball and closing my eyes. Then, I felt a hand and then an arm lay over my side, and a soft voice whisper:

"And you are forever in mine"


	11. Just An Infatuated Fan?

_Chapter Eleven: Just An Infatuated Fan?_

-* When I woke the Opera Ghost was already gone, though, a warm breakfast awaited me on the counter. I missed my Opera Ghost, I wanted to hold him close to me again; I always felt safer in his arms. The morning was normal, save, all of my servants outfits were gone and in their stead were beautiful dresses I would expect to see grace La Carlotta!

Gems that had to be worth thousands (if not millions) of pounds hung in my wardrobe..._mine_!

I had to check a few times to make sure I fell asleep in the right bedroom!

Pinned to one of my dresses was a note, a note written in my Opera Ghost's hand! It runs thus:

_'Seeing as you have a new role, you also get new garments. Take these in complement of Monsieur Firmin's purse; I await the moment they grace you, my angel.'_

I giggled and twirled, falling back onto my bed and holding the note, kissing it a few times. Wait a moment_ 'a new role'_? A new role!

I was Primadonna! I was sure of it!

I jumped up and hurriedly read over the note once more, almost screaming in complete and utter joy! I ran to the wardrobe and a lilac dress with powder blue and black lacing caught my eye; I giggled in exuberance the entire time I dressed!

-* That day I adorned the necklace and earrings the Opera Ghost gave to me, just like on La Carlotta's birthday, they didn't seem out-of-place; they looked normal! But I, I on the other hand felt royal! I had never been around so many expensive things before! I smiled proudly as I reached the surface; I walked-no, no-more like strutted over to the opera boxes. I ran up the stairs to box five and flung the door open, there was a masculine figure sitting in a velvet chair.

The figure didn't even have time to turn around before I was upon him! I tackled him and connected our lips, smiling afterwards and placing my head upon his chest. "My Opera Ghost" I whispered, I smiled up to him and that's when I had the most embarrassing moment of my life.

That wasn't the Opera Ghost.

It was Monsieur William Alexander de Chagny!

I gasped and sat up apologizing multiple times. "I am so, so, so sorry! I t-thought you were someone else, I-"

"Thought I was the...uh...the what, exactly?" Monsieur William asked, he was dressed in a black evening suit and his cheeks were pale, but his lips were pink. He looked flustered from my unexpected attack, but, he attempted to make it out to be not a major problem.

"Uh...the Opera...Opera Ghost" I said, feeling my cheeks turn cherry red, William nodded and now turned to my dress, his eyes bulged.

"Wow...you look...wow" he said, he held himself up by his elbows and I sat on his knees.

"Oh, uh, thank you...I found them this morning...my Opera Ghost gave them to me" I said with a smile, William nodded.

"And, now, uh, who is this Opera Ghost?"

"Oh! He's wonderful! He's really, very smart and strong, well, strong enough to carry me, anyways. He's protective and very thoughtful; he's a complete gentleman...he's funny and romantic and just...all around fantastic." I said, there was something in William's eyes that sparked my curiosity, it appeared to be jealousy, but, wasn't very strong as jealousy normally is.

"Ah, he seems like a...a good man. But, pray tell, why do you call him 'Opera Ghost'?" William asked, sitting up, forcing me into his lap.

"He told me to call him that"

"He told you to call him 'Opera Ghost'?" William asked uncertainly.

"Yes! He said it was what everyone else called him and he told me that name so, I started calling him that! He seems to enjoy it" I explained, William nodded and gave me a facial expression that showed he thought I was completely mental. Then, he smiled.

"You look, without a shadow of a doubt, like the most beautiful woman I've ever seen" said he, I thanked him and he leaned closer to me, I backed away a bit. This happened twice and he began to laugh "I'm sorry, mademoiselle, I'm not uh, not used to seeing such a beautiful woman, I get flustered and confused." He apologized, I nodded and accepted his apology, but, twice more he attempted to get closer to me; on the second time, someone on the far right of the box cleared their throat. I turned and gasped, hurriedly standing and seeing my Opera Ghost walk out of the corner, his arms were crossed on his chest, his eyes were narrowed and locked on William and he had the overall air of intensity and masculinity...not to mention stifled anger.

I ran over to him and gave him a hug, but his eyes remained on William; they were cold and threatening. The Opera Ghost, after the hug and a few kisses to his cheek, pushed me behind him and puffed out his chest, flexing his arm muscles and crossing them; my friends (when I explained what happened to them) later told me that what he was doing was a warning to William to back off. "And, who is this, my dear?" My Opera Ghost asked, William cleared his throat and decided to introduce himself.

"I am William Alexander de Chagny, nephew to the Count Raoul de Chagny" William said, taking a bow to my Opera Ghost, a look of realization passed over my Opera Ghost's face.

"A de Chagny, you say?" My Opera Ghost growled "I'm not in _good_ association with de Chagny's, monsieur. In fact, you could say our history together was_ heinously _appalling, at the very least"

"Well, monsieur, with your permission, I wouldn't mind changing that" William countered.

"No doubt you would" my Opera Ghost hissed, not skipping a beat. William made a movement towards us and my Opera Ghost reacted, his right arm reaching behind him and making a barrier before me; he was trying to protect me!

"Monsieur, I mean _no harm_. I mean no harm to either of you...please...calm down...let us all be calm" William said, holding his hand before him in surrender. I glanced down to my Opera Ghost's side to see a noose-like object carefully grasped in his palm; the rope that made this object was black. Monsieur William and I both relaxed, but my Opera Ghost watched Monsieur William's every move.

"My dearest Persephone, would you please await my arrival at the bottom of the stairs...I have a surprise for lunch" my Opera Ghost said, I nodded loyally and kissed his cheek, leaving box five but my no means walking down the stairs. I made it sound like I walked away, but, I really pressed my ear against the door and listened to their conversation. "Monsieur, de Chagny, let us get a few things clear before we part, mademoiselle Persephone is _mine_. And _mine_ alone. Do you see how she cares for me, monsieur?

She will never care for another the way she cares for me, because she loves me, monsieur. She _loves_ me. I will allow that to sink in for a moment" my Opera Ghost said, pausing and then chuckling before resuming. "Monsieur William, you are a charming young man, are you not? But, if I ever find that you are attempting to court my Persephone I will kill you in such a merciless way that your mother will not recognize you when I am finished. Would you like to hear what I will do with you?

No? Too bad, monsieur, you will hear anyways; mostly because I do not give a damn what you think. First of all, I must deal with that incessant, flapping mouth of yours; a few yanks on your tongue and it will come right out. Problem solved. Next, comes the fun; I won't even gift you the African forest, good monsieur, I will attend to your tortures myself.

Now, you should feel honored, monsieur de Chagny! Usually when I want to torture someone I let them hang themselves on the iron tree in my torture chamber, you will, at least, die by a man's hand and not your own." My Opera Ghost paused "oh, where was I? Ah, yes, the tortures. I think I'll go with the old testicle crushing first, of course, that gets a bit messy; I'll fashion something to take care of that.

Next, I think I'll cut off your toes and stuff them down your throat...oh, you don't like that idea, do you? Well, isn't that the entire concept, monsieur de Chagny?" My Opera Ghost laughed darkly and continued "then, I believe I'll stab you a bit, possibly hang you by your genatalia? Hmm, that sounds nice to me; then, I'll bleed you. I will hang you upside down, monsieur de Chagny, and make tiny cuts on random parts of your body and let you bleed" my Opera Ghost paused "and I think your mouth may need something in it...does it not?

The Pear of Anguish is quick to be that solution. Finally, when you fall to your feet and feel as if you can not bear any more...I shall attach ropes to both of your wrists and ankles to four horses and shoot a revolver. Your head, monsieur, we will use in the production of Hannibal where my sweet, little princess will sing her beautiful heart out." My Opera Ghost said with a small sigh "and lastly, monsieur, do not _ever_ sit in _my_ opera box again. Au revoir, Monsieur de Chagny, au revoir" my Opera Ghost finished, I hurried away from the door and ran my fastest down the stairs, trying to look normal when I reached the bottom.

My Opera Ghost stepped out and smiled, walking down the stairs and offering his arm to me; I cuddled up to him. I didn't know someone would do all of that for me...do _all of that_ to someone who fancied me! It was morbidly sweet and I found myself adoring the Opera Ghost ever more!

-* My Opera Ghost took me down to the fifth cellar where I heard music playing, as we stepped down from the last stair I spied a wooden table before the inky black lake. On the wooden table was a white table cloth trimmed with white lace; on the table cloth were two plates, one on each side of the table. The plates were gold and next to them sat silver utensils and a drinking glass. A golden candelabra sat between the two plates as several standing candelabras around the room were also lit. I smiled over to him "this is so wonderful" I said, it was one of the most touching things that I had ever seen.

He smiled and led me to my chair, gently pulling it out and helping me into it, pushing me closer to the table afterwards. He disappeared for a moment into a small room that I hadn't seen before and came back out bearing a plate full of what he called spaghetti. It's a plate full of stringy pasta noodles and on top of that is a sauce of alfredo or marinara; the sauce that the Opera Ghost and I dined upon was alfredo (it's a white colour and marinara is a red colour and tastes tomato-ish whilst alfredo tastes creamy). Meat can also be added to the sauce, in our sauce was chunks of juicy chicken, but beef or veal or duck or any meat you can think of can be added. It was absolutely delicious!

"Did you cook this?" I asked as he poured a glass of white wine and put it beside my plate, I thanked him and he chuckled.

"Do you believe that I can cook this?" He asked and we both laughed. "No, Hamish did an excellent job though." he added, I nodded and we ate in silence for a few moments. My Opera Ghost smiled "you thought he was me, eh?"

"Well! I'm only used to seeing one figure in box five and that's you!" I said, attempting to justify myself. Again, my Opera Ghost grinned.

"Was he good?"

"At what?"

"The kiss" my Opera Ghost clarified, a hollow tone to his voice.

"Not in the least" I assured, he glanced up and I stood, he gave a quick intake of breath and I smiled; he stood as well, being the gentleman he was (and is). I stood on my tippy toes and pulled his face to mine, connecting our lips for the very first time. He was nervous, and a bit confused, he didn't know where to place his hands and his tongue remained locked in his mouth. After a moment or so, however, his hands rested on my waist. Nevertheless, it was one of the best experiences of my life.

My fingers played with the ends of his hair, curling them and feeling the ends brush against my fingertips. The Opera Ghost smiled and his hands tightened around my waist, he then leaned me down and I giggled through his lips; keeping my eyes closed at all times. My mother taught me, when I was young, that keeping your eyes open during a kiss often means that you're untrustworthy and that is one thing I never want my Opera Ghost to think of me! After a few more moments our lips disconnected and we both breathed heavily, the Opera Ghost licked his lips.

"Strawberries" he said.

"What?"

"Strawberries, your lips taste like strawberries" he clarified, I giggled and he placed me back in my chair oh-so-gingerly. As if he feared that if he dropped me I would shatter and pieces of me would go flying across the room.

-* Our lunch ended somewhere around five o'clock (counting a small chat afterwards) and the Opera Ghost took me on a walk through Jardin des Tuileries. The moon was half full and smiled down upon the earth, the entire world was silent and the only sound was the sweet song of crickets and our feet upon the concrete path. Flowers smiled to us and waved as we walked by whilst the wind ticked the trees and whispered secrets to the clouds, causing the clouds to run into one another in excitement; that is what the Opera Ghost told me they were running through the sky for, it made sense to me. Our hands were together and our fingers were interlocked, I wrapped my arm and held my right side to his left arm as we walked; and, we sat down at a bench before a lake, this lake wasn't as dark as the lake in the fifth cellar, I figured it was because the moon was glancing at itself in the lake's mirror. But, the moon nor sun could look at itself in the fifth cellar's mirror, for, that lake was indoors!

The night was so peaceful and there wasn't a person to be seen! It was so romantic, the Opera Ghost always found romantic things for us. Now, the Opera Ghost's hand rested on my knee as my hand laid atop his; he always wore gloves, I guessed it was because his hands became cold easily, I tried to warm them when I could (besides, it was a good excuse to be able to hold his hand, is it not?) He sighed and looked over to me, brushing a piece of hair from my face and sitting back, his back against the bench. "Opera Ghost?"

I asked in a whisper, scared to break the brilliant serenity that engulfed us; he smiled to me attentively. "I-I...I lov-" but I did not have enough time to say the three letters I was dying to utter! The Opera Ghost kissed me too quickly! He paused our kiss and smiled.

"I know" he said softly before retaking my lips and kissing me as the nightingale sang its delightful tune and the lovely melody of the crickets drifted into the background as the clouds ran away with secrets and the wind tickled the trees with its cold fingers and the moon smiled down upon us. Us, a kissing couple in the park.

_**(A/N)**_

_**I'm not the best at threatening people (admittedly, I've never done it in real life before, I've done it quite a few in my brain) so if my threats aren't that good, I apologize. I basically took mean words and my history of torture and the Phantom of the Opera and mashed it all together to attempt to create a threat. I wouldn't mess with Erik if he told me that, would you? More than likely not. Haha, that is all I wanted to say! Good day! **_


	12. Music of the Night

_Chapter Twelve: Music of the Night_

-* I couldn't stop thinking of my and my Opera Ghost's wonderful night as I layed in my bed, here is the rest of what happed:

After the stroll in Jardin des Tuileries, the Opera Ghost and I walked even more, I was walking senseless, I had no idea of where I was; but, the Opera Ghost, however, knew exactly where he was and he was going. We ended up at a cemetery and beside the cemetery was a huge, gothic style church with a large, silver bell at the top that was rung on Sundays. "Wow" I whispered and the Opera Ghost shrugged,

"I designed this building, my Angel of Music, just before I designed the Paris Opera House" said my Opera Ghost, my eyes bulged as I looked up to him.

"_You_ designed this place? _And_ the Paris Opera House? Wow, so you're an architect!" I cried, He smiled and gave a small chuckle.

"Yes, I did. Of course, with the Paris Opera House I had a little help; the man's name was Charles Garnier. And there was a sketching competition to see who could sketch the finest opera building the world would ever see. Garnier won the competition, I was too late to submit my sketch. However, in talking to Garnier we struck up a deal; I would help him build the Palais Garnier which you know by the name of the Paris Opera House.

Guess how many years it took to complete?" He asked, smiling to down to me, he had taken up my arm again and we were walking through the cemetery. I bit my lip in thought.

"Five years!" I guessed and he shook his head.

"Higher"

"Uh...ten years!" I guessed, surely I must be over!

"No, no my dear, higher"

"uh...fifteen?" I asked, the Opera Ghost laughed.

"You're one year off, my darling! It took us fourteen years to finish the Palais Garnier, that was only due to money troubles and the Franco-Prussian War; during that time the Palais Garnier was used as a warehouse." He explained, I nodded.

"A warehouse for what?" I asked, he sighed.

"Gunpowder, food, clothing, things of that sort" he further explained. "Then, a fire came and destroyed the interior of the Palais Garnier, but, do you remember the five cellars? Good, they remained untouched." He paused for a moment and a smile graced his lips "when it was finished again, Charles was summoned to the Empress Eugénie and I can still remember what she said!_ 'Whatever is this style?_

_It's not a style! It's neither Greek, nor Louis XVI, nor even Louis XV!'_ and Garnier, I must tell you, was a man who could think on his feet; he instantly replied with _'No, those styles are outdated. It's Napoleon III. And you complain?'_

Oh, my angel! I don't believe I've ever laughed so hard in my life!" My Opera Ghost said, laughing, I giggled and we quieted again, I rested my head against his chest and he took us up the steps of the church.

"Wait...we're going inside? Isn't that trespassing?" I asked, my Opera Ghost smiled.

"Of course we're going inside, you must see the organ! No, lovely, I built this place, after all." He replied with a wink, producing a small, golden key and unlocking the great doors. Lit candles were scattered all about the pew room and, standing at the front of the pew room was a young-ish man, he was on his knees before the statue of God. He wore a white robe and blue rosary hung 'round his neck.

He stood at our presence, and the Opera Ghost didn't look the least bit surprised. The Opera Ghost gently escaped my arms and walked to the man who I suspected was the preacher; they shook hands like old friends and spoke fast French. I stood a little ways away from them, confused. Although my French was improving, I dare not attempt to say it to anyone just yet! The man I suspected of being the preacher had short, blonde hair and light green eyes; he was a tad pale, then again, who wasn't in this part of Europe?

My Opera Ghost would be the exception to this, however. He had a tint of gold to his skin, but, he couldn't of gained it sitting in the...what did he call it again? Palais Garnier? Yes! Palais Garnier all day.

I had a hunch that he took holiday for a while in warmer, more sunny places such as Spain or Persia or some such place to that equivalent. They both turned and were now staring at me, still speaking French, mind you; usually, when people find out that I'm English, they'll speak to me in English, the preacher however, was a different story. I heard the Opera Ghost say something to him about English, the preacher nodded and the two walked over to me, the preacher took up my hand and kissed the top. "Bonjour, comment allez-vous?" He asked, I glanced up to my Opera Ghost and he nodded to me.

"Uh...B-Bon, comment allez-vous?" I asked, a little nervous, I hadn't actually ever started a conversation with anyone in French before. The Opera Ghost was teaching me little by little. The preacher smiled.

"Très bon! Donc, vous êtes juste à l'apprentissage du François, eh? Bon pour vous! C'est une belle langue. Vous en aurez besoin en trop, ce n'est pas tout le monde sait ici en anglais." Said the preacher, my eyes enlarged and I cleared my throat, the preacher smiled to me and again, the Opera Ghost nodded.

"Je-je ne sais pas.." I answered meagerly and both men began to laugh. I was humiliated. My cheeks heated and I looked away from the men, my palms got a bit sweaty and tears nipped at my eyes. The Opera Ghost saw this and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to his chest and kissing the top of my head.

"It's alright, my love, we don't learn things overnight, do we? No, it's alright, calm down; I'm here...I'm here." he cooed, stroking my hair and hushing me. I held my tears in, but the sting of humiliation didn't fade away until long after. The Opera Ghost and I sat together in the first pew whilst the preacher stood before us.

"My name is Preacher Acel, I am a native of France and a friend of your Opera Ghost's. May I have the pleasure of knowing who you are, mademoiselle?" Preacher Acel asked, I smiled and nodded.

"My name is Persephone Kardine, I am a native of England and the Opera Ghosts...girlfriend" I said and the Opera Ghost smiled proudly to the preacher.

"Ah, England huh? Why did you come over to France?" Preacher Acel asked, I sighed.

"My mum uh...my mum was killed and my dad had left us when I was a baby so I had nowhere else to go...my uncle lives over here so he took me over" I explained, the preacher nodded.

"How was she killed?"

"She was murdered" I replied, the preacher kissed his cross and did the cross upon his face and chest.

"May God rest her soul" the preacher said softly, I nodded and thanked him. The preacher stared at me hard for a while and then spoke again "I realize you both are here not for my blessing upon your marriage...or...are you?" He asked, the Opera Ghost and I both laughed.

"Not yet, monsieur! Not just yet, I wanted to show my little angel the organ" my Opera Ghost explained, the preacher nodded and led the way and, in no time, we arrived at a giant organ the size of my bedroom! There were three sets of keys and they appeared to be stairs! One set on top of the other! The golden pipes climbed up the walls and stopped just before the ceiling that was painted as a mural of cherubs flying around, tooting trumpets among the golden clouds.

The organ was sleek and the colour of night with little holes engraved into it, but they were painted golden. And, in several places there were large holes panted golden and detailed with black, they were the stars and the moon! The Opera Ghost sat down at the organ and began pumping, his fingers flew over the keys and tickled the ivory within, making the golden pipes scream out beautiful notes! I couldn't recognize the song he played, but, whatever it was, it was sublime! I had never heard such a supreme song!

The preacher put a comforting hand on my shoulder, I turned and he was backing away, out of the organ room and he motioned to me to follow. I wanted to tell my Opera Ghost where I was going but the preacher grasped my shoulder again and shook his head, he pulled me into a different room, not too far away from the organ room. He sighed and gave me a pitiful smile "my dear" he started "what happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"You know_ exactly_ what I mean" the preacher countered, I shook my head.

"I talked about that once, I will speak of it no more" I said, backing away from him.

"Please, Persephone, I am here to help you. At the very least let me make you a bath of holy water, please, Persephone. The Opera Ghost would want you to...if he knew."

"If the Opera Ghost knew than...than...I don't know. I don't know what he would do; he would certainly be angry." I said softly, the preacher nodded.

"He would. Here's what he would do, he would fly into a rage...a most terrible rage, mademoiselle, and he would prosecute any man who has ever taken a fancy to you" the preacher paused and William came to my mind and my Opera Ghost's threats to him. "He would take you here and force you to bathe in holy water...even after the bath he would still be fuming. When he does find out, because, it is inevitable that he will; be a step ahead. He might make you take another, but, the bath doesn't hurt...or...it shouldn't hurt...and you'll be cleansed twice.

After your bath you and I will pray together for forgiveness." The preacher finished.

"Forgiveness? But, it wasn't my fault!" I growled, the preacher hushed me.

"Shhh! Persephone! Your Opera Ghost has the best hearing in the history of man! You must keep quiet" the preacher hissed in a whisper, but, the organ music continued. The preacher sighed "I know, I know, but it is what you must do in these cases" the preacher explained. We were quiet for a moment, then, I broke the silence.

"It's not a bad idea, monsieur, but, if you do not mind, I would like to discuss these matters with my Opera Ghost first. I do not fancy doing things behind his back and...and he will soon have a right to know. Thank you, for the offer, Monsieur Preacher, but I will have to politely decline at the moment."

The preacher's face was covered in complete shock. "W-wait! Did you not hear what I said? Do you not understand? The Opera Ghost will become very, very angry-Persephone!

Wait!" The Preacher hissed, grasping my arm, yet, I wiggled free and continued my walk back to the organ room. I knew my Opera Ghost would get angry, any protective, loving boyfriend would! Yet, when the Opera Ghost was angry, he wasn't illogical; he still used his head and was completely functional. He knew when enough was enough.

The organ music had stopped and the Opera Ghost was standing behind the seat with his arms crossed and his foot tapping the floor impatiently. "And where have you been?" He asked, offering me his arm, the preacher came running in after us, his cheeks were flushed, yet he smiled to the Opera Ghost.

"We were having a little chat" I said, attempting to pull the Opera Ghost out, but, he is immovable when he pleases. He didn't even budge when I pulled on his arm!

"About what?" He asked suspiciously, looking from me, to the preacher, then, back to me.

"Nothing you need trouble yourself over at the moment" I answered, I pulled on his arm again, and still, he would not move.

"Oh, I think I need trouble myself over it if you will not tell me what it is." He said, staring at me.

"You need not"

"I need so" the Opera Ghost countered. Silence stole in the room and paced before us three, I sighed.

"Please, I do not wish to speak of this any longer, may we go back to the Palais Garnier?" I asked the Opera Ghost, his eyes narrowed for a moment and then he nodded, we left the church and he called a cab which took us back home.

When we arrived he and I cuddled together in my bed, but we didn't breathe another word of what ensued at the gothic style church he built.

-* The next day I woke to find that he was gone, and, as per usual, breakfast was awaiting my presence on the counter. I wore a burgundy dress that day, it adorned black lace around the cuffs and neckline. Firmin still wasn't back from his 'holiday' and the great La Carlotta was healing her broken nose and pride. I was named Primadonna, if only for a little while. And that night, we had a show!

We were preforming Claudio Monteverdi's _'L'Orfeo'_. Piangi would be portraying Orfeo (the protagonist), I would be portraying Euridice (Orfeo's fiancée/wife), the chorus would be the nymphs, a few singers I didn't know the name to would be the shepherds, Jocelynn portrayed Silva (the messenger), the goddess of Hope was portrayed by another singer, Caronte is portrayed by Dante (a male singer), and a few other singers portray Pluto (god of the underworld), Proserpina (goddess of the underworld/Pluto's wife), and Echo (a friend of Orfeo).

All day we practiced! And then, at seven o'clock the crowd began to file in! At seven thirty, the curtain was ready to be pulled! I was so excited! The opening scene was of Orfeo and I in a meadow, excited about our wedding, next, we are married in a temple and we dance and sing in joy.

Act II depicts Orfeo's learning of my ( Euridice)'s death and he decides to go gain me/her back from the Underworld. Act III takes place in the Underworld (and near it) where the goddess of Hope leads Orfeo to the River Styx; the boundary between the living and the dead. Hope must leave, for there is a sign that reads 'All hope abandon you who enter here'. Hope leaves and Orfeo is soon met by the figure of Caronte (Charon), the ferryman of the River Styx who helps the dead across the river into the Underworld. Orfeo is said to have a godly singing voice and now he employs all of it that he has, but, he is only successful in lulling Caronte to sleep.

Orfeo takes this opportunity and steals the boat, ferrying himself across the River Styx and entering the Underworld. In Act IV Orfeo makes it to Pluto's kingdom (the Underworld), he sings to the God and Goddess and is successful in moving Proserpina who begs her husband, Pluto, for Euridice's release. Pluto, himself is moved by his wife's pleas and sends one of the spirits to announce that he will allow Orfeo to lead Euridice back to the upper world provided that he does not turn to look upon her until they have left the Underworld. Orfeo, once told of the grantment, sings and leads Euridice away, but soon becomes curious, how can he know that Euridice is behind him? Orfeo hears a noise and Orfeo turns, for a moment looks upon her, and then the vision is abruptly cut off.

A spirit tells him that he has broken the law and is unworthy of mercy. Euridice is ordered back to the realm of the dead. Orfeo tries to follow her but is drawn back to the upper world by a force invisible to him. Act V, the final act, is where Orfeo laments to Echo about the loss of his beautiful wife and resolves to never fall in love with another woman.

-* It was Act IV and my Opera Ghost sat in box five whilst William sat in box seven. I had just finished the lamenting of losing Orfeo forever and was being dragged away by spirits, when I was yanked too hard and lost my balance, I fell back and felt something touch my throat, there was a man behind me, and the thing to my throat was a knife! I let out a scream and the audience applauded, thinking it was part of the act. The man punched my cheek, the men playing the spirits held off my attacker whilst I ran, there was no where else to run, but back onstage. So, I did, I ran back on stage and hid behind Piangi "what is the matter with you?

You're supposed to be dead!" He growled, I could say nothing but point; all of a sudden, the knife that was once around my neck was hurtling for my head! I gasped and pushed Piangi down, the knife soared over our heads and stuck to the wall behind us. The crowd gasped and a few women screamed, my Opera Ghost's figure couldn't be seen in box five any longer, neither could William's in box seven. They soon got the man that attacked me under control ('control' being unconscious by a punch from my Opera Ghost), I ran to him and buried my head into his chest as the curtains were pulled.

Moncharmin told everyone to stay seated, it was only a mere problem.

I shook uncontrollably and a few tears fell from my eyes, I had only been this scared once in my lifetime.

My eighth birthday.

-* I didn't recognize my attacker, no one did.

Or, said they did.

It was only when we asked La Carlotta did something emerge, she claimed she didn't know him, but, he knew he was caught, so he decided to drag her down with him. "Yes, you do" the man said in a deep voice; his eyes were grey and his hair was blonde. "You came up with this entire thing, you wanted me to kill her; you wanted me to kill her like you sent Mario to do, but he never came back." At hearing this man's words I had an epiphany!

"Wait a moment" I said, and all eyes turned to me "you mean to say, that the man that tried to strangle me...he, and yourself, are under La Carlotta's employ?" I asked, the man nodded.

"Yes, mademoiselle, she offered a pretty price for your head too. Five thousand francs upfront and ten after the job was done." He finished, I paused and turned to La Carlotta who's face was red with rage.

"I'm only worth fifteen thousand francs to you?" I asked with a slight smile.

"You're worth even less, you little brat!" She hissed "I do not-" she couldn't even finish her sentence before a constable hooked her wrists together behind her back with handcuffs. I couldn't believe my ears when I heard the words

"La Carlotta, you are under arrest"

-* Of course, Piangi attempted to stop them and I knew he would do anything to pay her bond. Still, she was put in prison for attempted murder...twice. Revenge is, indeed, sweet. I sighed and looked up to my Opera Ghost, smiling, my eyes wandered to see William standing against the wall a good distance away from us; I smiled to him also. There was another man beside William, speaking to him, he was tan and had melting eyes of jade; he wore a black, astrakhan hat and smiled to me with white teeth.

In summary, he looked amiable, but, a bit strange.

The opera was over and the Opera Ghost and I sat on the roof together, watching the stars twinkle. I sat in his lap and curled up, wrapping myself in his cloak. He smiled and held me close, his arms creating a protective barrier around me. "So" the Opera Ghost said, I looked up to him "you saw the Daroga, did you not?"

"The who?" I asked

"The man in the astrakhan hat, you saw him, didn't you?" My Opera Ghost asked, I nodded and he smiled. "That is the Daroga, or, as the ballet girls may call him, the Persian." And at that moment, I remembered what I overheard from the ballet girls at lunch. They often spoke of a man called 'The Persian' who walks 'round the opera house with a little notebook, he doesn't talk much, but he always smiles to the girls, which scares them a bit.

"You have no reason to fear him, Persephone. He is quite gentle and of the most affable nature; he has a heart that could hold the world." Said my Opera Ghost, patting my leg and smiling. The moonlight shone off of him and his mask to give him a real, ghostly appearance. "I will introduce you two to-morrow" he added, I sighed and kissed his chest, laying my head back upon it.

"Opera Ghost...I-"

"-Love you too" said the Opera Ghost, kissing me before I could get out the words, he smiled to me and carried me back inside, dinner awaited us in the kitchen.

___**(A/N)**_

_**So, now you all know the story of L'Orfeo! Yay! As you can see I gave you a few more hints as to my big shabam surprise (just kidding, it's not that big, sadly, it's often commonplace) and then there's just William 'creeping' in the background. Tisk, tisk! Haha, (oh, and I tried on the French part, most of it I could do from memory, but I needed the aid of a translator; if you ever need a translator for any language, DO NOT USE GOOGLE.) **_

_**Au Revoir, mes amis! **_

_**(P.S. sorry for the font change, I was messing with it and now it won't change back. This should be fun.)**_


	13. Risk Taker

_Chapter Thirteen: Risk Taker_

-* I woke lying on the Opera Ghost's bare chest and below me he snoozed quietly. His face was turned to the left, so his mask was buried into the pillow; his right arm laid limply across my back whilst his right hung off of the bed, his mouth was open so I could hear every breath he took. I smiled and glanced down, I was in the white nightgown I found only days beforehand. I laid my head back down upon his chest and listened to him breathe, his breathing was slow and even, and it almost lulled me to sleep, but there came a knock on my door! I jumped and gasped and my Opera Ghost shot up, seizing my arms, his eyes were wide and wild at the sudden surprise; the knock came again and my Opera Ghost sighed, smiling to me and kissing my forehead.

"Good morning, my Angel of Music" he said with a yawn, stretching. The knock came once more and my Opera Ghost stood, cracking his back and walking into the living room. His black hair was messy and one of his trouser legs was rolled up to his knee whilst the other was down the entire way, and his eyes were half closed, but his mask remained unmoved on the left side of his face. I peeked at myself in the mirror as I heard the door open; my hair was frizzy and poked out every which way! I giggled at myself and peered into the living area to see that standing before my Opera Ghost was the man in the astrakhan hat!

Oh, what did he call that man? It started with a 'D'...Darin? Demetry? Then, it came to me, Daroga! I heard my door shut and my Opera Ghost walked back into the bedroom, offering his hand to me.

"Come, my dear, come meet Monsieur Daroga" my Opera Ghost encouraged, I smiled to him.

"I can't meet someone...not like this!" I cried, attempting to smooth down my hair, but it only frizzed up and when I ran my fingers through it to rid it of knots, the knots only joined together to create bigger knots! My Opera Ghost raised an eyebrow.

"Like what? I see nothing but utter perfection before me" he said, I smiled and pulled him down to me, kissing his lips. He chuckled and pushed be backwards, laying me down onto the bed; someone cleared their throat behind us and my Opera Ghost slowly turned; we both saw the man in the astrakhan hat leaning on the doorframe.

"You both do realize that I was still in the living room...correct?" He asked, my Opera Ghost and I both laughed and the Daroga chuckled "and, by the way, Persephone, you look beautiful" the Daroga added, my Opera Ghost smiled to me and helped me off of the bed and into the living area.

-* The Daroga is all what my Opera Ghost explained! He was so nice and one of the kindest people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting! The Daroga was the one to make us three breakfast, whilst he did so, he and my Opera Ghost recounted some of their tales together when they were in Persia. Apparently, my Opera Ghost traveled with a gypsy camp before meeting the Daroga, when the Daroga was going to tell me what they called my Opera Ghost, my Opera Ghost cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes; indirectly telling the Daroga not to.

After that small incident I learnt that my Opera Ghost was commissioned to build a great palace for the Shah-in-Shah, and it had so many trapdoors and secret passageways that the Shah-in-Shah could get around unnoticed! He was also commissioned by the Persian government to be a political assassin and designed tortures for the Shah-in-Shah's mother to watch; it sickened me that people would get entertainment out of someone else's pain (for absolutely no reason). How the Daroga and my Opera Ghost met? The Daroga was sent by the Shah-in-Shah to go fetch my Opera Ghost and bring him back to Persia, which, he did, and they became great friends. After my Opera Ghost built the palace the Shah-in-Shah ordered my Opera Ghost blinded but, the Shah-in-Shah feared that my Opera Ghost could still make beautiful palaces, so, he ordered him executed!

I gasped and jumped into my Opera Ghost's lap, squeezing his arms, making sure he was really there. The Daroga and my Opera Ghost both chuckled; "the Shah-in-Shah ordered me to kill him, but I couldn't do that. Instead, whilst he was sneaking out of the country, my men and I found a body on the shore of the beach and dressed it up like your Opera Ghost and for a while the Persian government thought he was dead. That is, until, the same thing happened in Constantinople!" the Daroga cried, narrowing his eyes at my Opera Ghost and poking an egg he was cooking in a charcoal black frying pan.

My Opera Ghost smiled but offered no words of defense. "I was kicked out of the royal house but given payment, so I came to Paris and re-found your Opera Ghost" the Daroga finished. We smiled to each other and the Opera Ghost kissed my nose.

-* The Daroga and my Opera Ghost went shopping!

_Actual_ shopping!

My Opera Ghost was a little hesitant in leaving me at the Palais Garnier alone, but, I overheard the Daroga say they could get me new 'special' garments and realization passed over my Opera Ghost's face; he smiled devilishly and kissed my cheek, saying that they would be back in time for lunch.

-* Moncharmin gave us that day off, that basically meant that I was bored out of my mind. I read and drew and wandered around the Palais Garnier (A.K.A the Paris Opera House). I walked up to the roof and sat next to an angel reaching out her hands to the heavens above; I even started a conversation with her. "It must be quite boring up here...then again, you get to see Paris! You get to see all of the people walking around down below! I wonder if you can see _all_ of Paris from up here..." I said, trailing off and standing.

"Oh, but we can" A voice said from behind me, I whipped around.

"Who's there?" I asked, backing away from the angel statue.

"It is I, this angel statue you've been talking to for the past hour. Us statues can see all of Paris from such a height, though, we do get lonely...very lonely" the voice said, the voice was a mix of masculine and feminine tones. Sometimes it would slip into lower pitches and others it would hurry to higher pitches; but the overall voice I felt I had heard before. I gave a sly smile.

"Lonely, you say? How are you lonely? You have all the other statues to talk to" I said, playing along.

"Ah, my dear, we have nothing to talk of because we all have the same experiences. It's nice every once in a while for someone that is mobile to come and speak to us and tell us of the life on the ground." The voice said, I nodded and peeked around the statue to find no one there, but I heard footsteps run around the statue! For a while the voice and I played ring-around-the-rosy until I ran a different way and caught the voice!

It was William!

We both laughed and then sighed "you're that bored, hmm?" He asked, leaning against the statue. I nodded "where is your uh, Opera Ghost?"

"Out with the Daroga" I answered "they're getting some type of special garment for me, I don't know what it is but the Opera Ghost sure reacted to it!" I cried and laughed, William smiled. William wore a white suit with golden designs, his hands were sunk into his pockets and his hair was handsomely combed. "How did you know I was up here?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Maybe I was up here before you" he said, pausing afterwards "maybe I came up here by chance" he added, pausing again "or, maybe I thought you needed a little company and followed you" he finished.

"My Opera Ghost wouldn't be very happy if he saw you up here with me" I said and William smiled.

"He would, he would be terribly furious. But, I think that's a risk I'm willing to take" he said softly, my cheeks flushed. He was willing to go through all of that pain and torture just to spend time with...me? He offered his arm to me, but I backed away.

"William, he would_ kill_ you" I said, a slight laugh at the end. William grinned and chuckled.

"Did you not hear me? I said it was a risk I am willing to take" he repeated, walking towards me. I was in a state of shock; he would risk being tortured and killed in the worst ways possible just to walk with me? William saw my surprise and gave a weak smile "unless...you don't...you know...want to walk with me-"

"No, no! I do, it's just...wow" I said, attempting to fight my shock, William's smile returned and this time, he took up my arm and pulled me back inside.

-* For the next hour or so William paraded me around the Palais Garnier, telling me things about it the Opera Ghost had already mentioned; still, I acted surprised, as to not totally demolish his ego. Soon, noon rolled around and the Opera Ghost had not returned with the Daroga. Neither of them had returned! I began to worry. "I'm sure they're both fine, seeing as how uh...violent and independent Monsieur Opera Ghost is, I'm absolutely positive they're both in tip-top shape!"

William reassured, patting my hand and leading me to the fifteenth floor.

When William and I reached the first floor again a man came up to asked and asked if I was Persephone Kardine. "That I am, monsieur" I answered.

"I am Darius, the Daroga's servant. A Monsieur Opera Ghost has sent me to tell you that he and my master are running a bit later than expected and offer an apology. They should arrive sometime around two o'clock, mademoiselle. Monsieur Opera Ghost encourages you to eat lunch without him." Finished Darius, I thanked him but felt something that felt like guilt rest in my gut.

-* William took me to the kitchen and attempted to get me to eat, but, I wasn't hungry. I liked knowing my Opera Ghost was fine, but I missed him, and every time I was with William I felt like I was betraying him and his trust. William tapped me and I jumped "are you alright, Persephone?" He asked with genuine concern sparkling in his eyes. I smiled and rubbed my forehead.

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm just...not very hungry." I concluded. It was true, I didn't touch a thing on my plate; William nodded.

"Are you ill?" He asked, and I laughed.

"No, no, I'm fine, William, really." I ventured to tell him, but his eyes narrowed in suspicion. I laughed and he smiled.

"There's that wonderful smile again!" He cried before taking a few sips of water. "So" William started "what does your _wonderful_ Opera Ghost have against us de Chagny's?" He asked, I shrugged.

"I don't know, he's never mentioned it before." I answered, there was a short pause.

"My uncle Raoul met my aunt Christine here; in this very Opera House. Other than that, I don't know if any other de Chagny has come to the Palais Garnier besides he and I." William said and then another pause ensued "and my, am I glad I did" he added softly, smiling up to me. William turned his head to the right slightly and leaned across the table, I panicked, he wanted to kiss me! I searched desperately and grasped my cup, raising it to my mouth only for William to kiss the bottom.

His eyes shot open and he pulled away, chuckling. "I'm sorry, Persephone, I didn't see you were drinking" he said, straightening out his jacket; yet, on his face there were no signs of embarrassment. I hesitantly lowered the cup and smiled. He leaned in for another try at a kiss and I turned my head.

"My, is it hot in here!" I said fanning myself with my hand, he opened his eyes and nodded. He stood and walked to a nearby window, unlatching it and opening it up; staring out and turning, and smiling.

"Better, my dear?" He asked and I nodded. He sat again and waited for _me_ to lean over to _him_! I needed to come up with something...and I needed to come up with something quick.

"I don't think you want to kiss me" I said quickly, his brows furrowed.

"What? Of course I want to kiss you! I-"

"No! No, now that I think about it I am a bit nauseated, and my head is terribly hot. I don't want you to get sick, monsieur." I said, standing, William stood and I backed away from the table we dined at, and he followed me.

"Persephone, I can deal with a little cold! It's fine, come now, let us go to your room. I'll take care of you-"

"No!" I cried quickly "no...please, I don't want you to get sick and-and what if the Opera Ghost comes in? He'll surely hang you, William!"

"Like I said before" William said calmly "those are risks I am more than willing to take, Persephone. I'll take them...for you...for us." He whispered, coming towards me with a gentle expression. I backed away, towards the cellars with my hands out before me.

"William, I just...I need to be alone" I said, backing up further, William shook his head and walked towards me.

"Persephone! Please!" He cried as I turned and bolted down the stairs, I ran to the third cellar with his footsteps hurrying after me, but, I knew the cellars better than he. He fell several times, getting entangled in props from the past. I hurried to my room and threw the door shut, locking all of the locks and hastened into my bedroom.

He stood before my living room door and I could hear the locks ticking; once my front door was open he tried the handle on my bedroom door. "Persephone, please, darling, let me in. Let me take care of you" he said wearily.

"I need some time alone, monsieur, please" I whispered, sniffling. I had no idea why I was crying, but I was. I heard the lock start to click on my door, so I rushed to the door and pressed my body against it. Covering my mouth with my hand to quiet my crying, he would only try harder if he knew I was in distress. I heard him sigh and sit against the door, god, how crazy I thought him to be; risking his life to sit against my door until I decided to come out.

The clock struck one, and in an hour, he could be swinging from the rafters of my bedroom by a black noose; all because he wanted to comfort me.


	14. Peppermints

_Chapter Fourteen: Peppermints_

-* It was forty moments before the Opera Ghost and Persian returned and William wouldn't budge. I had begged and pleaded him to leave, but he wouldn't leave until I opened the door and gave him, at least, a kiss on the cheek. Finally, I gave in, I opened the door and he stood; my eyes were still red and he leaned down to me, I puckered my lips and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. William smiled to me and stepped into my bedroom, glancing around and then turning back to me; he smiled and when I turned away, to go sit on my bed, he grasped my wrist and turned me back to him, pulling me close. This time, however, he placed his hands on my waist and smiled, sidestepping with me.

"Do you dance, Persephone?" He asked and I nodded; it was true, with a limited amount of money mother and I couldn't do much. But, dancing and singing were the two things we could do that were _limitless_! Mother taught me all types of dances and songs; that and reading the few books we had were how I usually spent my days. As we danced to an imaginary song William dipped me down and I gave a nervous laugh, he softly kissed my neck and moved up to my chin, and then to my cheek. I pulled away but his lips stuck to me.

"William, please-" I said, trying to break his grip from me, he paused and smiled.

"Please what?" He asked seductively, cocking an eyebrow. I paused and laughed.

"Not like that, Monsieur William! Please, put me down" I clarified, William smiled sheepishly and pulled me back up, clearing his throat as his cheeks pinkened.

"Well, uh, mademoiselle Persephone, I am uh...sorry for disturbing you; are you sure you do not need care?" He asked, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, monsieur William, it wasn't a disturbance at all; our time together was enjoyable. I am completely sure I can handle this cold on my own, thank you, though." I said, William smiled sadly and started to leave, then, he paused and turned back to my door.

"Persephone, wait" said he, I paused closing my door and opened it again.

"Yes?" I asked, Monsieur William walked back over to me in four strides and made a motion for me to lean over. I was hesitant at first.

"Don't worry, come now, I have something to tell you" he said, so I leaned in closer until is lips were to my ear. I felt him smile and then he pulled himself back and attached our lips! My eyes shot open and my hands were gently pressed against his chest; his eyes were closed and his tongue begged entrance into my mouth. He hesitantly let my lips free and smiled; "you are absolutely beautiful" he whispered, kissing my forehead turning, walking out of my rooms.

-* I stood, still stunned, at my door for twenty minutes; attempting to process what had just ensued. I soon heard the agile footsteps that described that the Opera Ghost was near, that is when reality smacked me in the face. The Opera Ghost and Persian walked in with smiles stitched upon their lips and the light of happiness glowing brightly in their eyes; the Opera Ghost glanced at me and then did a double take. He stepped closer and stared hard at my lips. "My dear" he started "why is your lipstick...smudged?"

He asked, I paused. "I'm wearing lipstick?" I asked, both the Opera Ghost grinned and the Persian busted into a fit of laughter; my Opera Ghost led me to my desk mirror and pointed to my reflection, funny, I didn't remember putting on make-up! I voiced my confusion and my Opera Ghost smiled.

"You did, I sat on the edge of the bed and watched you. It was after breakfast" he said, endeavoring to jog my memory. Still, I didn't remember it; my Opera Ghost only smiled and gave me a washcloth, and boy, did I scrub it off! Neither my Opera Ghost or the Persian/Daroga (whatever you prefer to call him) understood why I scrubbed my lips so hard, I told them it was because the lipstick was hard to get off, but, in reality, we all know why I rubbed my lips raw.

I wanted to get William off.

What he did was completely inappropriate and utterly uncalled for, but, I wouldn't seal his death just for being a degenerate boy. I stood in the WC and scrubbed and my Opera Ghost and the Persian made small talk in my absence; my top lip began to bleed a bit. Someone stood and not long after my Opera Ghost appeared, leaning against the doorframe with his hands sunken into his pockets. I did my best to hide my lip and smiled; he walked over to me and turned me away from the mirror, lowering the washcloth and looking at my lips; I sucked on my top lip so that he wouldn't see. "Let me see" he said gently, lifting up my chin and, slowly, I relaxed my lips back to their natural positions.

He sighed "I think that's enough scrubbing, my love" said he, smiling calmly.

"But...I don't think I got it all off" said I, (I wasn't talking about the lipstick).

"Honey, how can you tell? You're lips are just as red as the lipstick you wore! Come now, if you have any left_ I_ will be sure to get it off for you" said he with a grin, kissing my nose; I smiled and set down the washcloth, taking up his arm and walking into the living area with him.

"So" the Persian started after my Opera Ghost and I had settled down onto the couch, my Opera Ghost's arm was around my shoulders and I snuggled up to his side, laying my head on his shoulder. "No doubt, you met my servant, Darius; he's one of the best fellows I've ever met. As loyal as a dog, he is! He...uh...he told us you were with a man today" the Persian said, I felt my heart perform a backflip inside my chest.

"I was" I said

"Who?" Persian asked, he smoked a cigar but puffed out smoke in the opposite direction as my Opera Ghost and I.

"William" I answered, my Opera Ghost cringed.

"Why?" The Persian asked, my Opera Ghost was gritting his teeth, I could tell; I could hear him grinding them as the Persian asked questions.

"It's a little embarrassing. But, I walked all over the Palais Garnier and I was bored, so, I went up to the roof and watched people walk. Then I started talking to a statue...I didn't think I would get an answer but...I did! It was William who answered my questions and spoke as the voice of the angel statue." I explained, I looked up to my Opera Ghost, his eyes were soft and he kissed my head.

The Persian chuckled "and what did you do after?" Asked he.

"Well, he walked me around the Palais Garnier; he told me things that the Opera Ghost already told me, but, I didn't say anything...a man's ego is precious" I said and within seconds both men were laughing heartily; the Persian had to wipe his eyes he laughed so hard! I even giggled a bit, I didn't expect that to be as funny as it was! After calming the Persian continued with his questioning.

"What did you do after?"

"We ate, but, I wasn't feeling well so I had to leave" I answered, my Opera Ghost placed his gloved hand over my forehead.

"You feel fine" said he.

"How can you tell? You can't feel anything through those leather gloves of yours!" The Persian cried, and again, we all laughed.

"I'm feeling fine now, absolutely fine" I reported, my Opera Ghost gave me a sly glance and I smiled very big for him, the two laughed; they knew I faked it. They weren't stupid.

A knock interrupted us and my Opera Ghost answered, there was a servant who walked into the room bearing a note and a light green, tin box. "Is Mademoiselle Persephone Kardine present?" He asked, he wore a blue tuxedo coat along with a blue tuxedo with golden embellishments and pins; his nose was upturned, naturally, it seemed. His eyes were a dull green and his accent stated that he was from England, posh England, that is.

"That is I" said I, standing and walking next to my Opera Ghost.

"Here you are, my dear, complements of Monsieur William De Chagny" he finished, bowing to me and giving me the note and tin; my Opera Ghost narrowed his eyes at the man and quickly shut the door, closing it on the tail of the man's tuxedo coat. "Um, hello? The door is stuck on my coat!" The man cried, my Opera Ghost rolled his eyes and ripped the fabric off; the man grumbled curses under his breath but walked away quickly. The tin was a mixed tin of chocolate and peppermints!

And the note runs thus:

_'Dearest Persephone, _

_Please forgive me for my pompous behavior to-day, I am truly, extremely sorry. My head was not in the right place; I shouldn't have done that without your consent. Again, I plea for your forgiveness. Pray, give me a second chance, I know it may be much to ask, but, it is all I ask; good day, beautiful Persephone, enjoy the sweets even though you need not of them. You are sweet enough. _

_Love,_

_ William Alexander de Chagny.'_

I silently read it once and was forced to read it aloud to the Persian and my Opera Ghost. My Opera Ghost's eyes were confused as he glanced from me to the Persian and at once became scrutinizing when staring at me. "What does he mean_ 'I shouldn't have done that without your consent'_?" My Opera Ghost growled; I could see the fires festering in his eyes. I sighed, but I couldn't find the right words that would spare William's life.

"Persephone, tell me what he did to you" my Opera Ghost growled again, the fires grew and brightened; he was getting angrier by the second.

"He uh.." I began, my Opera Ghost slightly shook his head, opening his eyes wider; he angrily awaited my continuation explanation. "He um...well...I uh...I came back to my room and uh...locked the door, but, he can pick locks, apparently." I said, pausing afterwards. My fingertips became icy cold and I was twisting the bottom of my shirt in anxiousness. "And h-he came in and he danced with me for a moment and as I thought he was...uh...leaving, he grabbed my wrist and...kissed me" I said, mumbling the last two words, my Opera Ghost leaned in closer and asked me to repeat myself.

"He...he kissed me" I whispered, my Opera Ghost started losing patience with me; I could feel the heat from his eye fires and they burned my cheeks; causing them to turn cherry red. My Opera Ghost stood and began pacing before me, he still didn't know what Monsieur William did.

"By god, just _tell me_, Persephone!" My Opera Ghost yelled, I turned away, a few tears rested in my eyes; I hated being yelled at by someone so close to me.

"He kissed me!" I yelled and my Opera Ghost stopped pacing, he moved in slow motion. "He grabbed me and kissed me, told me I was beautiful, and left." I added, my nose was stuffing up at this point, but I wouldn't let any tears leak over my eyes. I hated crying, when I was little I was told it showed weakness, and I didn't like to be weak; although, I did like playing the part of a damsel, but, if I could save myself, I would.

"That's why I scrubbed so hard..." I whispered, staring down at my knees; my Opera Ghost sat down beside me and pulled me into his arms, laying my head down onto his chest. "Please" I whispered to him "please, don't kill anyone; there's been too much death in my life anyways...y-you can hurt him a bit and get vengeance, that much is understandable, but please...don't kill anyone...my a-angel of music" I said softly to my Opera Ghost. He set his chin on my head.

"I'll just let him _hang_ for a little while" my Opera Ghost hissed, tightening his arms around me.

-* My Opera Ghost wouldn't leave my side; even when I took a bath he sat against the door (on the outside) and we spoke about different things...through the door. Many times that night did my Opera Ghost kiss me, and it wasn't just limited to my lips; I received several kisses on my neck as he would walk by, or on my cheeks. He threw away the tin of peppermints and chocolate "_I'll_ buy you some" said he throwing the light green tin into the bin and soon after letting the fire devour the note sent to me by Monsieur William. The Persian, when the Opera Ghost was in the WC, asked me if I thought my Opera Ghost was jealous.

"No, not jealous; protective...and competitive. If anything it is Monsieur William who is jealous of my Opera Ghost" I replied, smiling to the Persian; my, if you told me two months ago that I would catch the eye of two men, I would call you completely mental!


	15. Many Happy Returns

_**(A/N)**_

_**Hello all! I'm not going to take up too much of your reading time with this little announcement (I hope); but there are several things I need to tell you, dear readers. 1. I am in my school musical (we're doing the 'Wizard of Oz') and I may not update as often because we're going to meet three times a week; Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays (or Fridays, whichever is available for the dance teacher) and our rehearsals will run from 3:00pm to 6:00 (and, on my dance teacher time, that's probably 6:30) so I may not push out chapters as often. (My dance teacher worked on Broadway, and both the chorus teacher and dance teacher have stated several times that this production is going to run like a Broadway musical!)**_

_**2. In my creative writing class we have to write a novella (or, for me, novel) and since I'm going to be so busy with making the Final Liar dress, the musical, and trying to update this I figured I would send her 'Yellow' (for those of you who haven't read 'Yellow' and are Phans, I think you should try it!) Should I do it? 3. Anyone who lives in the NC area, listen up! 'Les Miserables' is coming to the Raleigh Memorial Auditorium from February 11th-23d (I'm going to see it!) so, if you want to see it, go ahead and secure your tickets! (I was hoping Ramin Karimloo would be in this tour, but, sadly, I don't believe he is). That is all! **_

_ Chapter Fifteen: Many Happy Returns_

-* A few weeks passed without a single word from Monsieur William, but my Opera Ghost swore he didn't kill him.

My birthday was closing in upon us and every time I went to visit Hamish he would boot me out! He always smiled to me and said "your cake will be bigger than La Carlotta's! Ten tiers-no, no!-we'll make it fifteen tiers!" He would cry, I usually laughed and he bowed to me, returning to the kitchen.

Both Firmin and La Carlotta returned, however, when Firmin returned his clothes were raggedy, soiled and torn in many places. He fell to his knees in the lobby and Moncharmin rushed to him; he was taken into his room and cared for by the nurses, a doctor was called also but determined the problem was malnourishment and dehydration. Although, I could see scars, bruises, and wounds covering my uncle's body. I wasn't so heartless as to not feel bad for him; I pitied him, sure he was quite rude and overbearing and a prideful arse, but, no one, not even he, needs to be beaten so viciously for it. Then again...the memory of my kitten's collar surfaced and I looked up to him...could this, in any way, be connected to the events that happened almost twelve years ago?

I was quite certain that it was.

I remained in my uncle's room when everyone left, I sat on the side of the bed and gave a weak smile to him. "Perse...Persephone?" He asked, I leaned close to hear him.

"Yes?" I asked and he pointed to his dresser.

"In the third drawer...the bottle.." he said, fading into a whisper. Over I went and into the third drawer when I found a full bottle of whiskey. He sighed in satisfaction and asked me to get a shot glass for him, and, one for myself, if the fancy to drink took me. I took only one shot glass from the glass cabinet in the corner and returned to his side. I poured the whiskey for him and he graciously took the shot glass, putting it to his lips and drinking the entire thing down quickly.

We did this around seventeen times.

He chuckled and the whites of his eyes were now the colour red, he sighed. "What did you do on your 'holiday'?" I asked, I wanted answers and I was so relieved that he wanted to drink, it would be easier to get them out of him that way.

"Mustn't tell! Mustn't tell!" He cried, laughing, then, he looked up to me and all of his features relaxed; he was no longer giggly and happy, but sober realization passed over his face. "Oh" he said hollowly "oh, no"

"'Oh, no' what?" I asked

"How old are you?"

"What does this-"

"Just...answer the question...how old are you?" He asked, grasping my shoulders and shaking me gently.

"Nineteen...I'll be twenty in three days" I answered, Firmin sat back and rubbed his face, repeating the words 'oh, no' over and over and over. "What did that have to do with anything?" I growled, losing patience with him.

"Everything" Firmin groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"I don't-"

"You will know in three days" said Firmin, interrupting me. I continued to try and pry answers from Firmin, but he would give me none; I sighed and left his room, only to be stopped by Moncharmin telling me that I needed to ready myself, we would be putting on the show of '_Carmen'_ by Georges Bizet in one hour.

-* It seemed that La Carlotta was not coming back to the Palais Garnier! Not to sing, anyways. I would catch sight of her sometimes when I sang, she sat in opera box number three, glaring at me and waving to Piangi. As I had predicted Piangi paid the fine for her and saved her from a life in jail (her bond was five thousand francs, that's ten thousand less than she would pay for my head!) In consequence to this, I was named Primadonna.

-* That night (two nights before my birthday) I sat on the couch, writing in a journal whilst my Opera Ghost sat at the kitchen table, he was planning a party for me. He wouldn't let me see or even help, it was designed to be a surprise; but, I had seen some of the plans lying upon the table. My Opera Ghost had relaxed a week after the 'incident' with William, but, he still followed me everywhere I went; just _'to be sure I would remain safe'_ is how he put it.

The only noteworthy thing I find happened in the next two days is that Abelia sat down with my Opera Ghost and I and apologized to both of us. Not the short, little 'I'm sorry' this was an apology she poured her heart into; she even broke down into tears in the midst of it! "It's quite alright, Mademoiselle Abelia, I, at least, forgive you; you were only trying to protect my little Persephone, and that is reasonably understandable." My Opera Ghost said, his right am was wrapped around my shoulders and his left hand held my right; he even interlocked our fingers. Abelia nodded and thanked him, wiping her eyes.

"I also forgive you, Abelia, just, please, do not ever attempt to hurt him again." I said, she nodded and let her tears flow again as she and I stood and hugged. She buried her head into my shoulder and whispered the words 'thank you' over and over.

-* Invitations were handed off, the decorating was at its climax, out of the kitchen floated wonderful smells of pastries to be, and the Palais Garnier generally lost its head! Of course, my Opera Ghost had to take me out; I wasn't allowed to see my cake or any of the progress to the ballroom where my party would be held. The only thing I could get out of my Opera Ghost is that my party _wasn't_ a masquerade. We walked together throughout Paris, going in and out of little antiquity shops; I found that I enjoyed antiques, and so did my Opera Ghost. We stood in a shop that was two stories high and I was glancing over an assortment of coloured books whilst my Opera Ghost circled a harpsichord made sometime in the 1600's.

"If you want it, get it, my love; it's not that much...for a harpsichord anyways" said I, turning to see him exhuming the keys with an expert eye. He was maybe an inch from the dusty keys with his right index finger upon his lips whilst his left hand was tucked behind his back; he grunted and circled the harpsichord once more. I giggled. I wandered out of the little book section and into a section completely dedicated to musical boxes! I gave a little gasp and a bounce and hurried over to them; they were so beautiful!

Most of them were hand painted vibrant colours and played soft, lulling songs. Several of them caught my eye, a white stallion rearing up, a dancing couple, a singer in an electric red dress covered in sparkles; but, there was one particular music box that, when I saw it, I knew it would be mine. It was a little monkey wearing a red, satin turban with a green jewel and small, peacock feather embellishing it. The little monkey wore a red jacket and white shirt with dark green trousers and a smile upon it's face. The monkey's legs were crossed and it held two, golden cymbals; it sat upon a green and golden pillow with golden tassels at each end, and, underneath the pillow was the box itself, it was black and a golden square lined each side of the box.

The box also had golden, claw feet!

There was a golden crank on the right side with a black handle, I gingerly took up the handle and wound it a few times and out of the music box came a lullaby and the monkey's arms moved! They tapped the cymbals together! I giggled and lifted it from the shelf, I had never set my eyes upon such a beautiful music box! I turned to leave the section to see my Opera Ghost with a smile painted on his lips, his eyes were soft "come, my love, let us go; I'm famished" said he, I looked sadly down to the music box, and then back up at him. I sighed and placed the music box back up on the shelf "what are you doing? I said 'come on' not 'put the music box back'!" He said with a laugh.

"Really!?" I cried excitedly, he grinned and pulled out his pocket book.

"It's already paid for, my angel" he said, still grinning; I ran to him and jumped in his arms, kissing all over his face. He smiled and closed his eyes, letting me shower him in kisses.

-* We left the antiquity store with my music box and my Opera Ghost held a piece of paper. "What's that for?" I asked, my Opera Ghost held the bag with my music box in it; he wouldn't hear of me holding it.

"I did what you suggested and bought the harpsichord" He said with a smile, I clapped and kissed his arm.

"Perhaps I could get a birthday song or two?" I asked, he grinned over to me, leading me across the street, to a small, Italian restaurant.

"You can have a song any day of the year, my love" He said before opening the door for me; in we went and my Opera Ghost whispered something in a waiter's ear, moments later the cook burst out of the kitchen!

"O.G!" He cried, hastening over to my Opera Ghost and wringing him by the hand. "How are you, my good man?" He bellowed, this man was big in height and in girth, he was bestowed an Italian accent, but we could still understand him. He adorned black hair with a curly, black, Parisian mustache and green eyes.

He reminded me of Hamish, there was always a smile on his face. I halfly hid behind my Opera Ghost, meeting people bigger and taller than I wasn't my strong suit. But, this man saw me peeking out from behind my Opera Ghost, he grinned. "Oh, I see you've gotten a girl, eh?" The man said, nudging my Opera Ghost; my Opera Ghost chuckled and turned to me, gently grasping my hand and bringing me to his side.

"Adriano, this is my angel, Persephone" my Opera Ghost said motioning from the cook to me; I smiled and Adriano fell down to one knee and took up my hand, kissing the top. He stood and we shook hands.

"It's a pleasure to meet you" said I and Adriano smiled.

"Ah, my dear, the pleasure is completely mine; so, what is the occasion, Monsieur O.G? Or, are you just taking young Mademoiselle Persephone on a date?" Adriano asked, turning to my Opera Ghost.

"It is actually my little angel's birthday and I thought of no better place to take her for lunch than here" my Opera Ghost said, glancing down to me and then back to Adriano, Adriano blushed.

"Ah, monsieur you flatter!" Adriano said with a chuckle, he placed his hand on the right side of his mouth and leaned over to me "how long did he flirt with you, eh? Five weeks, six?" He asked, loud enough that my Opera Ghost could hear, I laughed and my Opera Ghost rolled his eyes. Adriano grinned "well, I will get the very best table for the beautifully happy couple!

Arrigo! Fabrizio! Ottenere queste persone fantastiche la migliore tavola in casa, ora!" Adriano cried, clapping his hands; a moment later my Opera Ghost and I were taken into a room with a great, crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling, murals of angels on the right and left wall, a full wall of nothing but windows and a front wall covered in pictures with a large fireplace that was heavily burning. My Opera Ghost and I were placed at a table that we had to walk up stairs to get to!

The chairs were plush and comfortable and the table was made out of white marble! The utensils were made out of actual silver and our drinks were poured into crystal wine glasses! After we were given a few moments to glance over the menu our orders were taken; I ordered the Fettuccini Alfredo whilst my Opera Ghost ordered the Penne alla Vodka. "Wow" I whispered, glancing around the room, other couples dined in this room as well whilst a soft, violin melody played from a hidden gramophone. "This is astonishing" I said softly as my Opera Ghost took a few gulps from his glass.

I looked at our wine glasses, they were tall (as per usual) and had a broad bowl (there are three parts to a wine glass, the bowl, the stem, and the foot. The foot is the bottom or what makes the glass stand upon the table, the bowl is the thing that holds the wine, and the stem is the thing that connects the bowl to the foot) and a shorter stem than a Bordeaux glass or a champagne flute, decorations on our glasses consisted of both opaque twists and airtwists. We were served red wine, a vintage, they waiter called it. "So, how did you meet Adriano?" I asked, sipping from my wine glass after the waiter left; my Opera Ghost sighed and smiled.

"Quite like the way I met the Daroga" he answered, sipping from his cup, I giggled, and, moments after, our food was at our table!

"My, that was fast!" I said happily, it was a good thing the food came out quick, my stomach was making horrid noises and unholy rumbles!

-* My Opera Ghost and I had the most wonderful dinner and Adriano refused to let us pay! "It's on the house, my friends" said he; my Opera Ghost argued this until he was blue in the face, but, still, Adriano won by using the '_this-is-my-restaurant-my-rules'_ trick. I giggled and my Opera Ghost shook his head with a slight smile upon his lips.

"Opera Ghost?" I asked in the cab back to the Palais Garnier, it was dark now and the moon was shining down upon the earth in all of her glory.

"Hmm?"

"I lo-" I attempted to say, but my Opera Ghost rushed to my lips and kissed me, gently pushing me down against the seat; running his gloved fingers through my hair and freeing my lips, kissing down my neck.

"I know" he whispered with a grin.


	16. Star Princess and Emperor of the Night

_Chapter Sixteen: The Star Princess and the Emperor of the Night_

-* All of the lights in the Palais Garnier were gone! It seemed that no one was stirring! "Where _is_ everyone? It's only eight o'clock" said I, my Opera Ghost grinned but remained silent; helping me out of the cab and paying the driver. My Opera Ghost never allowed me to pay for anything, and the one time I did (we were in a small restaurant for lunch and the waiter came with the receipt whilst he was in the WC), he took me to a dress store and every dress I tried on, that he liked, he bought.

I didn't even have a need for a new dress!

Now, my Opera Ghost took up my arm and held my hand, leading me away from the cab and up the stairs to the Palais Garnier. My Opera Ghost had a skeleton key that would open any door in the Palais Garnier, he now produced it from his pocket and unlocked the front door; it was pitch black! The lobby was pitch black! I had never seen and/or heard of such a thing coming from the Palais Garnier! My Opera Ghost cleared his throat and the sound echoed off of the walls, it was quite eerie.

I started to venture into the lobby, but he grasped my arm and pulled me back. "Wait a moment, my dear" he said softly, he turned back to the darkened lobby and cleared his throat again, louder and more expectant this time. I then heard a voice say 'oh' and instantly candles were lit and the entire cast and crew of the Palais Garnier was before me, they yelled:

"Surprise!" And I jumped back! They were all fancily dressed and huddled into a large group ten paces away from the door. I giggled and we all clapped; my Opera Ghost never let go of either my hand or my arm as he led me into the room, the gramophone was turned on and even more candles were lit! Shiny, sparkly, golden stars hung from the ceiling, along with a giant moon in the middle of the ceiling; it, like the stars, was golden, sparkly, and shiny.

Golden tinsel was thrown around statues holding candelabras, it was wrapped around the gramophone, and constricted around the banisters to the grand staircase. On the walls shimmering, paper stars were stuck at various heights; my breath was stolen from my lungs. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen; my Opera Ghost smiled down to me and I started to become emotional; tears ran to my eyes and I tried to bat them away with my eyelashes. "What's wrong, my sweet? Is it not good?

I-I can plan another if you so fancy it" my Opera Ghost said quickly, I shook my head and smiled, wiping my eyes.

"No, my angel, this is...this is so much more than I expected and so much better!" I paused and my Opera Ghost smiled "it's my first birthday party and it's...amazing" I said, unable to hold the tears back; I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my head against his chest. He chuckled and hugged me back, kissing the top of my head. The audience around us gave a collective:

"Aw!"

I allowed a few tears to spill from my eyes and onto his shirt, smiling and inhaling his perfume; he smelt of lavender and peppermints. His hug was so warm and I never wanted him to let me go! I dried my joyous tears and he lead me away from everyone, taking me down to my bedroom and showing me a multicoloured dress! At the top it was dark blue, then blue, then purple, then pink and then, at the very bottom, it was light pink. The sleeves were short and poofy, but I had no quarrel with that, there were four silver stars going around all sides of the dress (on the colour pink) and my Opera Ghost handed me a silver headband with two stars on the side and a crescent moon in the middle.

I hurriedly put the dress on and came out of my bedroom to see my Opera Ghost dressed in a black tuxedo paired with a black cloak, the inside fabric of the cloak was dark purple with little stars made out of an even darker purple material. On the outside of the cloak, along his shoulders, were several small, silver stars. He upturned the cloak's collar. He wore a black hat with the same purple/dark purple star pattern on the inside of the hat; and two, medium sized, pink feathers (the pink matched my dress) stuck out of the hat.

He was so handsome.

He always is, but, something about that costume made him look...royal. I couldn't (and still have difficulty) describing exactly what it is; I smiled and shrugged off that feeling, all I had to know was that the handsome, wonderful man standing before me was mine.

-* "Your costume is named _'The Star Princess'_" my Opera Ghost informed me as we were returning to the party.

"What's yours named?" I asked, grasping his hand, he smiled.

"_'The Emperor of the Night'_" he replied, I smiled and he turned towards me, offering his hand. "Mademoiselle, would you accompany me for a dance?" Asked he with a grin.

"I would accompany you to all of them" I answered, taking up his hand and smiling. He turned again and twirled me onto the dancing floor!

-* He was a wonderful dancer! Unlike me, he was light on his feet and knew most of the moves to the couples' dances. As I said before, unlike me. I was the equivalent of a walrus attempting to pogo stick and a rock striving to twirl. I was clumsy and I thought faster than my feet could meet my brain's demand!

My Opera Ghost learnt I wasn't so good at dancing in the first five moments of the song.

He smiled at me and held me close to him. "Follow my lead" said he, I nodded with a giggle and did as he instructed; stepping on his toes only twice. He spun me a few times and dipped me down to the ground, kissing my neck and then pulling me back up; taking a nibble at my ear. I giggled, but, in reality, I was dizzied and relied on him to hold me up.

Hamish's voice broke the dancing. "Hello everyone! We, the kitchen staff, would like to say that refreshments and snacks are in the kitchen and dinner will be served in twenty minutes in the Grande Parlor, afterwards we will cut the new Primadonna's birthday cake!" Hamish cried and everyone cheered; my Opera Ghost and I clapped and Hamish bowed. The music began again and the dancing continued!

As my Opera Ghost and I danced I saw genuine smiles upon people's faces and they were actually enjoying themselves! My Opera Ghost said that he told the servants they could come if they wanted to, or, if they didn't, they had the night off; I hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. I caught sight of Abelia with a man in a white tuxedo, I smiled, she found someone! Before she shot my Opera Ghost Abelia had confided in me, saying that she was sad because no one seemed to take an interest in her; I assured her someone would, when the time was right. Low and behold, she's dancing with someone!

I smiled and closed my eyes, resting my head against my Opera Ghost's chest and sighing in satisfaction.

-* Twenty minutes later and we were all sitting at a large, cherry wood, table in the Grande Parlor which was also decked out in shiny, glittering stars. We were all given champagne flutes and in was poured sparkling champagne. Moments after plates of pre-sliced duck, chicken, and turkey were brought out; they were held together by black ribbons. Potato mash, cheesy noodles, buttery croissants, Coq au vin, and Ratatouille were placed in big bowls on the table! Soupe a l'oignon was given to everyone in smaller, personal bowls.

Since I was the 'birthday girl' I sat in the biggest chair at the end of the table; my Opera Ghost sat to the right of me and Abelia sat to the left. As I glanced down the table whilst everyone was acquiring food (my Opera Ghost was making my plate for me, I couldn't reach anything) I saw a few familiar faces, Moncharmin, Firmin, Hamish, Adriano ( he had just arrived), Jocelynn, and then I saw a face that made my blood run cold.

William.

How was he here?

I doubted my Opera Ghost invited him...unless my Opera Ghost wanted to kill him easier.

Whatever it was, I didn't like it.

I sat back in my seat and pretended not to be bothered by anything, but, as my Opera Ghost was giving me my plate, he saw it. He saw that something was wrong. "It's nothing, my dear, I'm completely fine" I assured when questioned. He raised his left eyebrow in suspicion and I laughed.

-* After dinner was finished Hamish's cooks brought out the cake and I nearly fainted! It was, as promised, ten tiers high! "We attempted fifteen, but it fell" explained Hamish; the cake was multicoloured! At the top was black, then dark blue, then blue, then dark purple, then purple, then dark pink, then pink and finally, white! Dotted in random places were golden sugar paste stars and on the top was a giant, golden, sugar paste full moon!

Stuck in the sides of the cake were star sparklers and, thankfully, the cake didn't explode on anyone!

I nearly broke down in tears when I spotted a small, sugar paste figure of myself singing and my Opera Ghost lying down, his head in his hands and red hearts as eyes; for added effect, they made him drool. Hamish told me on each side of the cake were little sugar paste figures of my Opera Ghost and I doing different things. On the left side he was giving me a bouquet of sugar paste roses, on the right was the singing, on the back he and I were dancing together, and on the front we were kissing. I held my Opera Ghost's hand and smiled at the wonderful cake; Hamish gave me the knife but told me to wait, I had to hear my _'Happy Birthday'_ song. My Opera Ghost grasped my arm and turned me towards him, he cleared his throat and smiled; opening his mouth and singing _'Happy Birthday'._

My bottom jaw fell through the floor, threw the first four cellars, and ended in the fifth cellar. His voice! My god, his voice! It was methodical and godly, it made me want to jump into his arms and fall down to my knees at his feet and pray. Although it lasted a moment, maybe, I was in a trance, I practically felt my eyes glaze over; I smiled and bit my bottom lip.

He smiled and held his arms out to me, as if he was telling me that he was ready to catch me; and that's what I did, I dropped the knife and jumped into his arms. He stumbled backwards but soon found his balance and chuckled. "Mine" I said, looking down to him, he smiled and I repeated that word several times, even as he tried to put me down I wrapped my arms around him and said it over and over again.

Hamish handed me the knife once again when I was finished hugging my Opera Ghost. I sighed, but I didn't want to cut my cake alone...there was something about cutting it alone that seemed wrong. I turned to my Opera Ghost "will you help me cut it?" I asked, he smiled and nodded, walking up behind me and wrapping his arms mine; holding my hand which held the knife. Together we sliced through the first tier of my cake and everyone around applauded and cheered.

The actual cake was chocolate with little chunks of chocolate chips inside!

I had never had a chocolate cake before!

After dessert the large crowd of people dispersed to different parts of the Palais Garnier, some went up to the roof, some went back to the lobby to dance, some went back to their rooms, and some stayed in the Grande Parlor. Abelia and I went up to the roof whilst her suitor and my Opera Ghost remained in the Grande Parlor; I wanted to see the Eiffel Tower but my Opera Ghost had to keep an eye on things inside (make sure fights didn't break out, no one stole anything, etc.) There were approximately seven couples upon the roof, dancing and talking and drinking; I gasped when I saw the Eiffel Tower. It was completely lit up and shined like a beacon! All of a sudden, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and, behind me stood none other than William de Chagny.

William wore a burgundy suit and he gave me a rose, I thanked him and asked Abelia if he and I could have a private moment. "How...how are you here?" I asked quietly as he walked beside me, glancing over to the Eiffel Tower.

"Your little friend Abelia invited me" he answered, smiling to me; I nodded and sighed. Just after she apologized, too, then again, I don't think she knows what's ensuing between my Opera Ghost and Monsieur William. William moved closer to me "you are absolutely beautiful, Star Princess" said he, grinning. I thanked him and he moved closer, I backed away. "So, you're twenty now, huh?"

He asked, I nodded "perfect age to start a family" he added softly, he tapped his pocket unknowingly and through his pocket I made out the shape of a small box...wait...did he want to propose to me? He hadn't even courted me! Besides, I loved the Opera Ghost! I began to panic as he cleared his throat and sighed, his hands tapped the roof quickly, he was nervous. I needed to escape!

"It's been a lovely chat, really, William, but, I must return...my Opera Ghost is waiting for me" said I, backing away.

"Wait, Persephone, please...wait." he said softly, so softly and so gently that it made me pause from running back down to the lower levels. He grasped my wrist and pulled me away from everyone, whispering to me. "I spoke with my uncle Raoul and my aunt Christine and I know why the Opera Ghost isn't the fondest with de Chagny's." Said he.

"Why?"

"Well, a year ago my aunt Christine sang here, at the Palais Garnier...in your position. For a few nights she was the Primadonna and loved by all; it turns out she was being coached by a voice who claimed to be the Angel of Music. It was actually the Opera Ghost; he had taken a fancy to my aunt. All was going well between them until my uncle Raoul became a patron and my aunt and uncle re-fell in love. I say re because my aunt and uncle were sweethearts as children; anyways, the managers, your uncle and Moncharmin didn't do all of what the Opera Ghost asked so, in consequence he_ dropped the chandelier_ in the auditorium!

He only killed one person but it nearly set the entire Palais Garnier aflame! Several times before the Opera Ghost kidnapped my aunt Christine and the final time (when he dropped the chandelier) he gave her a marriage proposal, he forced her to choose between a scorpion and a grasshopper, the scorpion meaning that she would marry him and the grasshopper meaning she wouldn't. There were barrels of gunpowder left over from the Franco-Persian war, these the Opera Ghost put underneath the Palais Garnier; if my aunt had chosen the grasshopper he would have _blown up_ the Palais Garnier entirely! My uncle Raoul and the Persian went down to his home, in the fifth cellar and became trapped in his torture chamber, undergoing a mirror torture for god knows how long! And the Opera Ghost knew of it, in attempts to save my uncle, my aunt agreed and my uncle and the Persian were let out of the torture chamber, only for my uncle to be chained up.

My aunt says that the Opera Ghost lifted his mask and kissed her forehead and she kissed him back...apparently it was his first kiss...ever. Overcome with emotion the Opera Ghost said 'go marry the boy whenever you wish...I know you love him' and he let them go...but...Persephone...he's dangerous...very dangerous. He attempted to kill everyone, Persephone! Every single person in the Palais Garnier at the time!...Come with me, Persephone, we can go back to my home...just you and I and we can live together...just you and I with no evil Opera Ghosts to disturb us."

He finished, touching my cheek; my eyes glassed over, but not of sadness...of anger. My hands were clenched into fists, but I straightened them out and sighed in frustration; in one swift motion I slapped Monsieur William de Chagny across the cheek and he fell to the ground at my feet. My cheeks flushed and my breathing heavied. "_Monsieur_" I hissed "everyone does bad things...Monsieur William...and...what you need to understand is that I love my Opera Ghost...I_ love_ him! I love him with my heart and soul and the day I dream of leaving him is the day I will end my own life!"

I spat "but what _really_ angers me, monsieur, is that you think I am such a _whore_ to cheat on such a lovely gentleman as he with a man such as you" I continued "you are an incompetent, arrogant, self-absorbed prat and if you_ ever_ try to court me again I will not hesitate to allow_ my_ Opera Ghost to do all those horrible, terrible, sickening tortures he said he would do to you. I know I am being harsh, monsieur, but I will not stand for someone insulting me and the man I love on my birthday..._good day_, monsieur de Chagny" I growled, throwing the rose back to him and walking away from him, leaving the roof, Abelia quickly trotted behind me. I stood at the bottom of the stairs rubbing my face, I sighed and Abelia patted my shoulder.

"It's alright, Percy, you said what you had to" she said softly, I smiled to her and we walked back into the Grande Parlor; I felt weary after expending all of my energy in that outburst. My Opera Ghost took one look at us and his brows furrowed.

"What's happened, my lovely angel?" Asked he, I shook my head and rested it against his chest, sighing and then kissing his chest.

"I won't ever leave you, my wonderful Opera Ghost...never" I whispered and he chuckled.

"And you will never rid yourself of me, my love, we are together until the end"


	17. Stag Night

_Chapter Seventeen: Stag Night_

-* I could say that my Opera Ghost and I danced the night away, I could say that I had the most perfect birthday ever. I could venture to say those things into fooling you all my birthday had a non-mental ending. But, that wouldn't be fair, now would it? I have been truthful up to this point and I must continuously do so; even if the truth is hard to bare. Oh, what a birthday it was!

My Opera Ghost and I did continue to dance, twirling and spinning about the lobby; giggling and laughing. He even threw me up into the air, making sure to catch me when gravity decided to push me back down to earth. And then, as we danced, William decided to show his face again; he was pale and appeared ill, distantly holding the rose that I threw back to him before him, he stared at it hopelessly and fell down into a chair; I could feel the weight of his broken heart lying on my shoulders. My Opera Ghost saw me looking over at William and he turned me away, putting himself in the way of my vision towards William. He didn't speak about William, not a word; I figured he was being gentlemanly.

My Opera Ghost was always quite fair and honest. He would never speak of anyone behind their back, he wouldn't lie (he just wouldn't say anything about the topic), and, being considerate, he wouldn't usually talk of subjects that wounded the person at that time (ex. William). Having said this, it didn't surprise me that he didn't mention anything of William as he blocked my view. I smiled to him, my hands were together, behind his neck and his hands laid limply around my waist; this was a little difficult considering how tall he is and how short I am! For more than half of the song I had to remain on my tippy-toes so that he wouldn't have to bend down so much.

We quietly laughed at each other before he led me to a table, sitting down in a chair and placing me on his lap. My head laid against his chest and I twirled his black tie around my index finger; his eyes were soft as he kissed my head. "This is the best birthday ever" said I, smiling to him, he smiled back.

"Only the best for my Angel of Music" he said softly, placing his masked cheek against my forehead. Now, all of those terrible things William said that my Opera Ghost did returned to my thoughts, I sighed and shrugged them off; he was probably only lying to separate me from my Opera Ghost...well, there is no way in hell that's happening! "What's wrong, my angel?" My Opera Ghost said abruptly, ending my mental rant. Apparently, I had a sour look to my face and that alerted him.

"Nothing, my lovely...it's nothing." I said, my Opera Ghost gave me a frank look and I smiled.

"Please, Persephone, something's been bothering you all night; pray, tell me what it is so I can fix it and make your birthday even more perfect" said he, gingerly touching my jawline and rubbing my cheek. I smiled again, I couldn't not smile at him...he was perfect.

"I...you'll not be happy." Said I, with lack of better words; he smiled.

"I'll be fine, angel, I usually am; aren't I?"

"You are! You usually are...but...he made some...very_...very big_ accusations towards you; I think they're just lies...and they'll only get you angry. I think he lied to me just to separate me from you...I mean, I saw a little box in his pocket and he was extremely nervous and hinted to marriage and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" my Opera Ghost said, chuckling "pray be a bit more specific as to whom and what accusations...and then we'll worry about everything else" said he, I nodded, sighed, and explained everything to him, including my feelings towards the little box and my fury. My Opera Ghost's eyes darkened and he stared at William; I turned to see William with tears on the sides of his eyes! He still clutched the rose, but now, he stood and went back up to the roof; wiping his eyes as he did so. My Opera Ghost stood and placed me back in the chair. "Opera Ghost!"

I called, he turned to me, his eyes were still dark and cold. Most of my feelings of anger towards William had dissipated and now I felt pity; I knew my Opera Ghost wanted to hurt him...kill him, even, but I wasn't ready to admit to my conscience that I was the reason William would be dead. "Opera Ghost...don't...don't kill him; just...look at him! He's pitiful, his pride's already broken and so is his dignity. I know you want to hurt...more than likely, kill, him, but, think about his state and if you were in it" I said softly, my Opera Ghost sighed.

"I have" he growled, turning and walking away from me; up the stairs and to the roof. My heart sank...so the stories that William told me were...true? I didn't know what to think anymore...but, I did know one thing.

I still loved him.

-* The night wore ever more on and soon the clock struck three o'clock in the morning. People still danced and laughed drunkenly; I was sure the Palais Garnier wouldn't have any more alcoholic beverages left after this! William nor my Opera Ghost came down from the roof; though, it had been over an hour they had been up there, I was quite sure my Opera Ghost didn't kill William...why?

It doesn't take long to kill someone.

Believe me...I've seen it happen.

I shivered as those horrid memories came back to me; I sighed and downed another glass of sparkling champagne. I heard drinking ridded people of bad memories, and thought, _'hell, why not give it a try?'_ And so, my drinking fest began. After a few more heavier drinks I stumbled into the refreshment room and somehow got challenged to a drink-off with Hamish! Now, when Hamish drinks, he _drinks_; he's equivalent to a fish when alcohol is involved!

Abelia was witness to this and she was completely sober; apparently, I downed ten shots of whiskey, four of scotch, and five of rum before falling over a bin and vomiting. The crowd cheered and laughed, Hamish drank twelve shots of whiskey, ten of scotch, and four of rum before having the same fate of vomiting his food up in the kitchen bin.

Hamish was declared the winner. He drank twenty six shots in total whilst I only drank a measly nineteen.

Afterwards Abelia said she pulled me into the kitchen and made me wash my face; she made me drink two cups of coffee and sit as I answered multiple questions from her. She said that I fell asleep, the waking up, however, that, I do remember.

-* It felt as if someone was slamming two iron hammers into my skull repeatedly whilst a lion tore at my eyes! I winced as screeching rang in my ears; someone placed a cold hand on my arm. I hesitantly opened my eyes to see Abelia before me, we were back in my room and I was lying in my bed. Abelia sat on the side of the bed and smiled to me, she said something, but, I couldn't make it out amid the screeching. I winced again "by god, please, stop the damn screeching!"

I yelled, covering my ears and curling into a ball. Abelia hurried away and moments later the screeching stopped! I sighed and my hands dropped from my ears; "sorry" Abelia whispered, although it sounded as if she were talking regularly. "I had the gramophone on...I didn't suspect you would wake for another few hours" she added; I groaned and rubbed my face. The pain in my eyes was heavily reduced now, but, the headache was as powerful as ever.

I laid on my back and, as I stared at the ceiling memories from the night before came back in fragments. I couldn't seem to remember if my Opera Ghost came back down from the roof or not! "Abelia?" I asked softly, she gave me an attentive smile. "Did you see the Opera Ghost come down from the roof last night?" I asked in a whisper, my voice was a bit raspy and I had to clear my throat several times.

"I did, actually, he came down not too long after I brought you down here...I had gone up to the kitchen to get you some pain killers...which, I have in the living room, and he came down from the roof...alone. He walked straight for the cellars and I figured he was coming down to see you; and, when I came out of the kitchen I saw Monsieur William de Chagny coming down the stairs...he was covering his left eye and he hurried out of the Paris Opera House." Abelia explained before leaving the room and returning seconds later carrying two, little, white tablets and a glass of water. So, my Opera Ghost didn't kill William...but...he didn't come down to see me...at least...I have no recollection of a visit from he!

I drank down the tablets and sat up, the world spun for a moment and then everything was fine. I stumbled over to my wardrobe and took out a dress, I was going to go somewhere...where...I had no idea.

-* I had most of my senses back by the time I had dressed myself and eaten a breakfast prepared by Abelia. I decided, when I was dressing, that I wanted to go to the park; I didn't care which park, I just wanted to get out and see nature. As I hauled myself up to the surface my uncle Firmin stole me from my path to the front door. "Uncle? Where are we going?"

I asked (like I said, I had the ability of _most_ of my senses, memory was not one of them!) He hushed me and pulled me into his office that he shared with Moncharmin. After I was in he locked the door and stood behind his desk chair; I flopped into a chair before his desk and smiled stupidly to him. He sighed and walked like a scarecrow around his desk; he too was drunk (or was getting over being drunk)! I laughed at his walk and he softly touched my cheek, ending my laughter.

"Uncle, wh-"

"Hush" he said gently, placing his index finger on my lips. I laughed, wow, he _was_ drunk! "You know" he said "you're very pretty...very...very pretty"

"Thank you, _monsieur_. I try my best to be!" I said, giggling. He grinned and then fell to the floor.

"Firmin!" I cried, but, he was laughing.

"Oh, it's fine, I'm fine, my girl!" He cried, still laughing, he sighed and rested his cheek against my knee. "You know that thing that I said I was going to tell you about on your birthday?" Asked he, I thought for a moment.

"No" said I, we both giggled.

"Well, I'm gonna tell you part of it now" said he with a smile upon his face.

"Oh really?"

"Yes! Well..." said he, fading off into a whisper; he stared at me with large eyes and a small smile, something about him (besides the fact that he was drunk and/or hung over) was off. He pushed himself up, using my knees, and then fell forwards, catching himself on the armrests; his face was maybe an inch away from mine. "You're even prettier up close" he said, I turned my head and laughed and pushed his chest, meaning to push him away. But, he clung to the armrests.

There was something in his eyes...something I remembered...something sinister.

His eyes were dark, even darker than my Opera Ghost's the night before when he went to go confront William. "I uh...I really have to be going, u-uncle" I said, attempting to push him away, but to no avail. In fact, he did quite the opposite of what I wanted him to do, he advanced upon me! I backed up so much into the chair that the chair ended up falling backwards! I fell on my back and Firmin fell forwards, he landed on me.

He grasped my wrists and forcefully held them to the ground. "Firmin! What in the hell are you-"

"Hush, hush, hush, hush" he said quickly, covering my mouth with his hand; now discovering that my hand was free I began to smack and punch him; kicking his own legs and pelvis with my feet. He wobbled when I hit him but was otherwise unmoved. I chomped down on his hand and he let out a yell; I quickly stood and ran to the door, trying the handle only to remember that he locked it. I turned slowly to see a wicked grin on his face; in his hand was the key. He promptly dropped the key down his trousers!

"Have you gone completely mad? We're kin! That's-that's incest! That's disgusting!" I yelled "besides, I don't love you and I want to give myself to someone I love...ugh, the thought that you want to...ugh!" I cried, cringing in utter disgust and disbelief.

"Come now, my dear. It's not that-"

"Yes, yes it is!" I yelled "it's horribly wrong and repulsive and unpalatable and-and off putting and distasteful! To say the bare minimum!" I yelled, he wore a strange smile on his face and he walked behind his desk, standing behind his chair and leaning on it. He dug in his trousers for a moment and he produced the key, throwing it at me, but, I let it hit the floor before me; I didn't want to touch anything that had been in my uncle's trousers! I stared at it for a moment and then looked up to him; he chuckled.

"Just like your mum, hmm?" He said, still chuckling.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means" Firmin started, sitting in his chair and sighing "that your mother and I were just as ghastly as you called my actions."

"I'm still confused" I said after a few moments silence. He chuckled again and looked at me, surveying me from my head to my feet. He sighed.

"You're a smart, sweet, beautiful woman...you'll figure it out soon enough-" then, Firmin paused "you know what? No, I'm actually going to tell you this time! There's something far more 'repellent' that you have yet to learn, but, we will save that for later, eh?" Firmin sighed "I'll write it to you, my dear, I know it will make you feel better than to have me hanging over your shoulder again; so, when I finish I will have Abelia bring it down to your room, oui?"

"Oui" said I, sighing in defeat I took up the key; it was warm. I was nauseated as I unlocked the door; I don't think I've ever hurried out of somewhere so fast.

-* It was around four o'clock in the evening when I finally received Firmin's letter, I still hadn't seen my Opera Ghost. Abelia came hurrying in; "Firmin said that this was urgent...?"

"It is! Give it to me!" I cried, snatching it from Abelia and tearing open the envelope. The note runs thus:

_Dearest Persephone,_

_ What I am about to tell you, I am absolutely positive will scar you for life, then again, you've already been scared, this might open up an old wound, however. It started on March third when your mother was eleven and I was thirteen; it was, as you can imagine, hot and very humid. Your mother and I rested in the tub that we usually bathed in; we had filled it with the coldest water we could find. Your mother and I had often seen each other naked, being brother and sister, it came as no surprise to either of us. But, that day, something was special; the sun was sinking behind the trees and coloured the sky every colour of the rainbow!_

_ I'll spare you more of the...well...as you put it 'unpalatable' details, but, just know that your mother and I...we...we engaged in sexual intercourse. As I said before, your mother was eleven and I, thirteen; have no worries, you were not a product of it. (If you're wondering, it was willful, both of us were willing) Going back to what I said in the office, on your eighth birthday... something much more repellant happened...and I can never forgive myself for it. Just remember that you're beautiful, Persephone, you are oh-so beautiful...just like your mother. _

_Regretfully Yours,_

_ (signed) Uncle Firmin. _

I fell back and Abelia had to catch me. "Persephone!" She screamed, jumping behind me and dragging me to the couch; I couldn't believe it! Something welled up inside of me and I burst into tears! I didn't know what to think or do anymore! What can be more repellent than my mother and uncle making love to one another? Abelia held me close to her, and yet, she had no idea; she was so calm and caring, she rubbed my back and assured me everything would be okay.

"No, it won't!" I shouted, standing with the note firmly in my grasp. "It's not okay! Nothing is okay anymore!...This...it's...what can be more repellent?" I yelled, falling to a whisper and sitting back down on the couch, resting my head on my hand. Abelia hugged me and patted my back; I threw the note on the table and warned Abelia not to read it, she nodded and sighed.

"I'm going to get your Opera Ghost, okay? He'll make everything better...alright?" She asked, I wanted to argue with her...but I couldn't...not when she was going to get my Opera Ghost.

-* She only returned with another note. It ran thus:

_My Lovely Persephone, _

_ I'm a bit busy at the moment, my Angel of Music, I will come to you whenever I am next available; I need to create a device for the good Monsieur William._

_Love,_

_ Your Opera Ghost._

My heart ached, he couldn't even stop what he was doing to come see me? To see if I was alright? He couldn't take maybe ten minutes away to come visit the one who loved him with all of her heart? The one who cared for him the most and would, without question, kill herself for him (if need be)? I threw the note and turned away, sobbing into the couch cushion; I was so overwhelmed, I was hurt, I was confused, I was angry...I was too many feelings to explain at once!

Abelia stood away from me and sighed "I'm sorry" she whispered. "I don't know what's happened or what's in those notes, but you can damn well be sure that I'm here for you" said she, throwing her arms around me and hugging me hard. "Whatever happens, Persephone, just know that I'll always be here...no matter who comes and goes or what chaos will ensue...I'm here...I'm here because I'm your best friend and...and I love you."

**_(A/N)_**

**_Bam._**

**_After this phic, I am never, never, ever, ever, never, ever writing about incest ever again. Never. It's not happening. Nope!_**

**_Sorry if the crying part isn't as well-thought-out as it should have been, I started tearing up and just wrote upon instinct. Sorry too if I grossed some of you out; but, incest was a common thing back then and my friend keeps reminding me that people with blonde hair and blue eyes are products of incest (both of which I have). _**

_**As you have read, THIS WASN'T MY SURPRISE! **_

_***Smiles like Steven Moffat and fades away, laughing evilly* **_


	18. La crème glacée

_Chapter Eighteen: La crème glacée_

-* It was near two o'clock in the morning when he came in. I was dozing on my bed, unable to sleep; I would have nightmares and wake screaming. Abelia rested on the couch in the living room and I felt his arm fall around me. I quickly tuned and sighed, I needed to be sure it was my Opera Ghost and note my perverted uncle. I sat up and lit a lamp, he groaned and shielded his eyes; when he put his hand down, however, I saw the red outline of a hand on my Opera Ghost's right cheek! "Wha..?" I asked, he gave a weary smile and Abelia walked in, leaning on the doorframe and cocking an eyebrow.

"I hit him so you didn't have to" said she, I smiled and turned my attention back to my Opera Ghost, his eyelids were half drooping, his shirt was torn in places (one of his sleeves was torn off!) He was covered in dirt and muck and heavily smelt of sweat. Dotted over his body were red, puffy scratches and deep, purple bruises. His hair was a mess and his trousers matched his shirt; overall he appeared most exhausted.

"I'm sorry, my little dove, I'm sorry I couldn't see you sooner...I was making a new...uh...machine for the good Monsieur William" my Opera Ghost said, changing his tone to a growl as he said William's name.

"...Ten minutes" I whispered "all I wanted was maybe ten minutes"

"I know, my lovely little angel, I know; I'm sorry, I cannot say how sorry I am enough" he said, entrapping me in a hug and kissing my head multiple times. "I won't ever do it again, my love, I swear on everything I hold dear" he added, rocking me back and forth "how about tomorrow we spend time together?...the whole day! Just us! I'll take you to the park and we can go for a stroll...I'll even take you during the day!

We can get ice cream cones and go to little antiquity shops and walk around the gardens in Parc De Bagatelle, hell, we can even go to the Louvre if you so fancy to go! I hear they have a new collection of exhibits from the Susa Galleries." My Opera Ghost said, giving me a weary smile and grasping my hands; I nodded.

"I would love that" I whispered, he nodded and sighed, running his fingers through his hair and laying back down, pulling me down gently next to him. I reached up and switched off the gas, Abelia said goodnight and I heard her leave my room; I sighed and curled up against my Opera Ghost. I don't think sweat had ever smelt so sweet.

-* In the morning, as he made me breakfast, I told my Opera Ghost everything that proceeded with Firmin the day before; I had to calm myself several times as I read Firmin's note to the Opera Ghost. He would pause and push the charcoal black frying pan off of the hot burner and walk over to me, holding me and kissing my cheeks. When I finally did finish reading the note to him he shook his head "so, M. Firmin and your mum...?"

"Yes" I whispered softly

"But it didn't make you..?"

"Yes" I said, he nodded and sighed softly, placing an egg onto a plate next to buttered toast and two links of sausage. He gave to me this plate and smiled.

"I know it's hard, my darling, but, you must think, that was your mum's deal. Your mum didn't say 'no' to it...did she? I thought so, and, as perverse as this may sound, just remember that your mum got what she wanted and the only consequences are memories; whilst I do think incest is wrong and utterly nauseating, you must consider the person's happiness...were they both happy? I think so." My Opera Ghost paused "though, Firmin's actions towards you are strange and inexcusable...I will speak with him later" he added with a growl, finishing his own breakfast and bringing his plate 'round, sitting beside me; he smiled and gave me a wet kiss to the cheek.

-* That day the first place my Opera Ghost took me was to Parc De Bagatelle. I wore a light blue dress whilst my Opera Ghost wore a black suit; the day wasn't that hot, surprisingly, seeing as it was May! My Opera Ghost wore a top hat to shield his face from the sun whilst I carried a parasol that matched the colour of my dress. It was as if we were walking in a rainbow! Insects hummed merry tunes all around us and there wasn't a cloud in the sky; the sun pointed its golden fingers towards the earth and tipped his golden crown to my Opera Ghost and I as we walked along a concrete path on the rainbow of sugary smelling flowers.

My Opera Ghost proudly paraded me around the gardens, giving me a kiss or a nibble here and there. I would giggle and kiss him back, holding his hand tightly. We arrived at the small lake in the garden, upon the far end was a few white, rock formations with water trickling down from them. "Do you know what that is called?" My Opera Ghost asked, wrapping his arms around my waist; he stood behind me as we both stood on the opposite shore of the lake.

I shook my head and he smiled "that is a waterfall, a small one, but still one nonetheless." He explained, I loved the way the light sparkled on the lake water, it wasn't a turquoise colour like the ocean was, this water was more of a brownish green; I still smiled.

"Smoky topaz" I whispered

"What's that?"

"Smoky topaz...the water is full of smoky topaz" I explained as two, great, snow white cranes flew above; my Opera Ghost hugged me tighter.

"Do you like smoky topaz?"

"I like everything" said I, turning to him and kissing his nose.

-* After we left Parc de Bagatelle my Opera Ghost and I meandered around the streets of Paris until we came to the Place de la Concorde. "Do you know" my Opera Ghost said as we entered the square "that this is the largest square in Paris" he finished, I shook my head.

"I most certainly did not! It is quite massive!" I said and my Opera Ghost smiled and we paused at one of the large, black and golden fountains that occupied the square.

"Stay here, my angel, I'll go get us some ice cream. Ça va?" Asked he, kissing my hand.

"Oui, ma belle." I replied, he grinned and bowed, winking and turning away. He walked to a vendor with a red and yellow cart and in the words _'La crème glacée'_ in big letters. I glanced away from him to see children laughing and playing, running around the fountains and yelling:

"Balise, vous êtes!"

I smiled and turned to my left to see a man wearing a black evening suit, a brown trench coat and a large hat with a small, green feather sprouting from the top of it. I tried not to stare at him too long, but, the man started coming towards me! I moved over, away from him a little; the man came and sat next to me on the fountain. His face was covered, for, he popped the collar to his trench coat; however, there was something strange about his eyes. They were hazel and somehow...familiar.

Just as I was about to say a greeting my Opera Ghost returned holding a chocolate ice cream cone in one hand and a strawberry one in the other. He smiled and handed me the chocolate one "because I know you _love_ chocolate"

"Not as much as I-" I started, but the Opera Ghost put the ice cream to my lips.

"Eat it before it melts, my love" said he, I nodded. I still couldn't figure out, in the slightest, why he would never allow me to say that I loved him. As we ate our ice creams I confronted him of this issue.

"Why won't you ever let me say how much I adore you?" I asked and he chuckled and sighed. Hesitantly, he answered.

"I've been...hurt before by someone I felt was 'in love' with me...as it was...she wasn't. I don't want you to say it until you are absolutely sure you're ready to be with me...forever." He whispered "I can't risk being demolished that way again, my love, and if you said you didn't..." he added, falling into silence. I threw my arms around him and kissed his cheeks, over and over.

"I would never say that, Opera Ghost, do you hear me? I would_ never_ say that! Not even if death himself was about to take me away...those words will _never_ pass my lips; it's a lie and a terrible lie at that! It's so untrue it's fake!" I said, my Opera Ghost smiled and kissed my nose.

As we ate our ice creams my Opera Ghost showed several signs of nervousness. His foot was incessantly tapping the ground, his hands were shaking, his eyes were quick and shifty, and he tapped the fountain non-stop. I dismissed it as a sugar rush...

Until.

Until my ice cream started to melt faster so I decided to take a big bite out of it (I had been licking it earlier). When I did, I felt something in my mouth that most definitely was not ice cream. I pulled, whatever it was, out of my mouth and washed it off in the fountain to find that it was jewelry...but...not just _any_ jewelry.

It was a ring.

The ring had a golden band with a medium sized diamond set to it!

My heart pumped faster and my cheeks turned pink; I looked over to see that the Opera Ghost was already on one knee before me. He smiled and I heard the children that I once heard playing and all of the adults cheering! I stood and wavered, and my Opera Ghost asked the biggest question in the history of man.

"Will you, Persephone Kardine, marry me? Will you marry a monster?"

In this moment the cheering faded away and the heat became unbearable! I was nauseous and excited and everyone was watching me! Apparently, I managed to nod, but that was all I managed to do! I fainted exactly after my Opera Ghost slipped the ring on my finger.

-* I woke to Abelia squealing, I cried out and fell off of...well...where ever I was put! I groaned and the world around me spun. "A wedding?!" I heard my best friend shriek "I love weddings! Oh, who's getting married, Monsieur William, who?"

She asked quickly; it took my brain several moments to realize what was happening, I was on the floor in my bedroom, breathing heavily, and Abelia was evidently in the living area with Monsieur William. I sat up, upon my knees, and slowly stood, stumbling over to the right wall and leaning on it for a moment; catching my breath. I heard shuffling coming towards my room and Abelia appeared. "Oh, dear! I didn't mean to wake you, Percy! Monsieur William was just telling me that someone here was going to get married!"

"...M-me" I said softly.

"What?"

"M-me" I said, louder this time.

"You...what?"

"I'm...I'm getting married...I'm getting married!" I cried, grasping on to her arms and bouncing up and down with Abelia. Then, I stopped "I'm getting married.." I whispered, trailing off. Abelia set me down on my bed.

"To whom? Who are you being wedded to? Wait! Don't tell me! Is it..." she paused and pointed into the living area "William?"

Before I could reply William glided into the room and took up my hand. "Yes, madam Abelia, it is I; in fact, we will be wedded to-night...on the roof"

"Wait a moment-" I attempted to say before Abelia cut me off.

"Oh! Tonight? I'll go gather everyone!" Abelia cried, I attempted to stop her but William held me back and Abelia left giggling like an idiot.

"What the hell was that?" I yelled, slapping his hands away from me. William smiled and shrugged. "You _imbicile_! You _ponce_!

You utter, utter_ fop_! You...you...you _bastard_!" I yelled, William sat down on my bed.

"Call me all the names you would fancy to, princess, everyone, in a few moments, will believe we're being wedded" William said with a smile.

"Well, I will be quick to end that" I growled; as I stormed out William grasped my hand and threw me back into my bedroom! I fell upon my bed and he pounced on me! Holding my wrists down and his knees held down my legs, he began kissing all over my face; I fought and slapped used most of my strength attempting to push William's hands off of my wrists.

But to no avail.

I resulted to crying out and screaming which was quickly ended by a kiss by William.

I wiggled and wiggled until one of my legs came free and I used all the strength in my legs to kick him where it really hurt! He gave a sharp intake of breath and his hands shot down to his pelvis, grasping his manhood and whimpering in pain. I jumped up and ran out of my bedroom to see Abelia just about to tell a whole group of people that William and I were getting married! "No! Abelia!"

I cried, Abelia turned and smiled. I grasped her arm and pulled her away from the large group of people. "Abelia, I'm not getting married to William, I'm getting married to the Opera Ghost!" I clarified and she started laughing.

"Then_ why_ did William say you were getting married?" Asked she, the crowd heard and started making a fuss.

"Wait, you're getting married to William de Chagny?" A woman asked, the crowd began loosing its head and I had to clam them.

"No! No! I'm not getting married to William! I'm getting married to the Opera Ghost" I said and many of the girls gasped.

"Y-you're getting married t-to that..._monster_?"

"He's_ not_ a monster" I growled "he is a man and a gentleman at that! He's the sweetest, kindest, most loving man I have ever met and if you're too blind to see his magnificence then I pity you, for you are truly missing out on a sensational man" I said, I sighed and left the audience before me awe-struck; I decided I was going down to the fifth cellar, I needed to see the wonderful underground lake once again and to speak with my Opera Ghost...then, two questions popped into my head.

Where was the Opera Ghost when I woke and why wasn't he with me?


	19. Love

_Chapter Nineteen: Love _

-* I hurried across the third cellar, not fancying another encounter with William once more. Then, I ran as fast as my heels would carry me down to the fifth cellar. I slowed as I walked down the stairs to the fifth cellar; for, I heard voices. I tip toed down the stairs and peeked around the corner to see that my Opera Ghost's back was to me, and next to him was the Persian. They both held a large, blue, piece of paper that was rolled up at the sides and had little, white lines that made shapes running in it; they were holding it up to their faces and I heard my Opera Ghost say "I believe this is where I want it...the wedding...however, she may fancy it somewhere else; of course, I'll oblige her, Daroga...she's the most perfect thing...to say that I would do anything for her would be an great understatement.

I cannot explain my love for her, Daroga, for all I would be capable of answering would be the most vague of answers; to confine the infinite within the finite, to reduce the scope of time to a measurable triviality. It is completely impossible without being vague. I love her more than the stars can reach, more than my soul can weep, more than...more. Daroga...I have been in love once before...but never have I experienced love in this intensity...this...deeply. Daroga, I have been nervous few times in my abhorrent life...but I have never been so nervous as I was when I saw that little angel enter the Palais Garnier."

Tears stung my eyes as my Opera Ghost spoke; the Persian took back the paper and turned to my Opera Ghost who began speaking with his hands. My Opera Ghost now chuckled "oh, Daroga, that sweet little dove has made my brain soft, I no longer think when she is around, the words just spill from my mouth. And when she is gone...I fell as if something has been ripped from my heart...so alone...the longing for her is unbearable, Daroga." He paused again and smiled "I am at a loss for more intellectually pleasing words to describe my love for her, Daroga, and for that I apologize; for, you can never hear the words which her love truly deserves." My Opera Ghost finished, I wiped my tears away and listened for the Persian's response.

"Erik, it is fine, I understand your love by just looking upon you two; her eyes fill with excitement and joviality and she is unable to keep it in! She hugs you and kisses you; even though you are not avid nor experienced in either. She loves you for who you are, Erik" the Persian said with a smile, patting my Opera Ghost's back.

"Yes, you are quite correct..." my Opera Ghost said, trailing off. Erik? Why did the Persian call my Opera Ghost Erik? Then, it hit me, that must be my Opera Ghost's real name! "Daroga, second guessing one's self is a horrid thing, and yet, I cannot seem to shake it from my bones...was I right to ask for my little angel's hand in marriage?

Was I right to condemn her to a life living beneath an Opera House chained to a monster such as I for all eternity? Was I right...was I right to love her?" My Opera Ghost asked, turning away from the Persian and staring out to the vast, glassy lake.

"Erik, love is a thing we cannot help. It ensnares us in it's clutches and keeps us hostage until we submit. Mademoiselle Persephone submitted rather quickly, because, she does, indeed, love you; and now I speak for her, she would not have it any other way." The Persian paused and walked beside the Opera Ghost, placing his hand on his shoulder and sighing "and if you left her alone, Erik, you would destroy her. She would break down and her very core would shatter; she would lie in shards on the ground...sobbing shards...her mind would not be capable of logical thought...she would be love sickened and blinded by sadness...Erik...she would kill herself in your absence; she would kill herself without your love" the Persian finished and my Opera Ghost cleared his throat.

"I thank you graciously, Daroga, that is exactly the thing my ears needed to be graced with" my Opera Ghost whispered, coughing and turning back to the blue paper. As they talked quietly I thought up a plan.

-* I rushed out of the corner and leapt up, landing on my Opera Ghost's back and giving a short giggle. However, before I could do anything else, my Opera Ghost panicked and I received a particularly boney elbow to my stomach. I cried out and landed on my back, clutching at my aching stomach; the sour taste of stomach acid and chocolate ice cream filled my cheeks and made my cheeks tingle. My Opera Ghost was beside me within seconds "my love! Oh, I am sorry, I am so, terribly sorry!

I..I didn't realize it was you" said he, gently rubbing my hair. I nodded and pushed the sour mixture back down my esophagus, sighing and feeling the pain in my stomach diminish slowly.

"It's quite alright my silly...Erik" said I with a smile as he helped me up; he stared at me for a moment, almost as if he were observing a calcimined gargoyle!

"I'm sorry...my dear, what did you call me a moment ago?" Asked he, breaking from his trance.

"...Silly?" I asked and a small smile spread across his lips.

"No, no...not that. Though, it is a bit stunning, I've never been called 'silly' before. Did you call me 'Erik'?" Asked he, I smiled.

"Well...I heard the Persian call you that...is that not okay? Should I not call you 'Erik'?" Asked I quickly, he smiled softly.

"My dear, it is quite alright if you call me 'Erik', when the name graces your lips it is much more...bewitching" he said, gently touching my cheek and staring at me. I smiled and he cleared his throat, glancing down and staring at my hand; I still wore the ring.

"I-I'll never take it off" I said softly "never" I added; my Erik stepped forwards and kissed my forehead; the Persian smiled and turned us back to the blue paper, apparently, it was blueprints of the Palais Garnier!

"I had an inkling that we could proceed with our wedding here...in the fifth cellar. Upon thinking back upon it, I find it is not such a wonderful idea as I had first thought; I do not want most of the Palais Garnier's population so close to my home" said my Erik "so, where are you inclined to celebrate our exchanging of vows?" Asked he, I thought for a moment and sighed.

"C-can we be wedded at night?"

"Of course, my dandelion."

"Alright, then, the roof. At night, when the Eiffel Tower is alight and the moon shines overhead and the stars dance across the sky! That is where I would fancy our wedding to be" said I, grasping his hands and smiling excitedly.

"Then, my love, that is where it shall be"

-* "So, your real name is Erik?" I asked as he and I sat on the ground before the inky lake, we were relaxing; avoiding the unavoidable madness that would inevitably soon ensue above.

"Yes, it was my birth name" he explained as the water lapped on the stone gently. I rolled to my side and stared up at him, he turned and stared down at me.

"Erik, you are the love of my life" I said softly.

"And you, of mine, my dearest ray of sunshine." He said, smiling and touching my chin.

"When would you like to be married?" I asked with a large smile, he sighed.

"Whenever you are ready"

"To-morrow, then"

"To-morrow? Ha, oh, Persephone, the decorations couldn't be made by to-morrow! We must fit you for a dress and I must find a suitable tuxedo to take you as my wife in. That calls for at least a week; the decorations alone will take at least two weeks time to make!" Said he, I gasped.

"Two weeks for decorations?!" I cried

"I have a taste for the lavish; and if we are to be married, we will be married in the utmost grandeur...you deserve nothing less" he explained, smiling to me. I sat up and climbed into his lap, laying back, against his chest; he was a little hesitant, but he wrapped his arms around me and sighed, kissing my ear softly and holding my hand. I sighed and told Erik of what Monsieur William did and he chuckled; "he's only angry because you are mine and he's willing to take any opportunity that falls his way to attempt to make you his; his jealousy amuses me." My Erik continued "though, his torturous method in which he held you captive, if only for a few moments, bothers me; do not worry, my Angel of Music, I will rid him from our love soon enough." He finished I turned to him and smiled, biting my lip subtly.

"What is your opinion on children?"

"I do not understand children. I do not understand them. I do not understand their persistent need to _cuddle, _nor their perennially sticky fingers, nor their tantrums, nor their complete disregard for personal space." He paused "nor their complete disinterest in Hellenistic critical theory as applied to contemporary art and literature." He finished and I began laughing, I thought he was joking!

But, a quick glance up to his confused expression quickly stifled the laughter that once emanated from my vocal chords. "S-so, you..._don't_ want to have children?" I asked and he sighed, he was quiet for a few moments, no doubt searching for a suitable answer.

"My dear...if you so fancy it...I would rear a child with you...but...no more than one." He said, I gasped and giggled in excitement, hugging him tightly. Right before I let go I glanced up to see a satisfactory smile upon his face. I kissed his hand and grinned big.

"I love you, Erik...I love you" I said, Erik was unable to speaking for a few moments, he just stared blankly at me; it was as if he were stupefied.

"I..." he trailed off "I lo-" he attempted to say, but, just like he cut me off all of those times; I jumped up and captured his lips, pushing him back and softly laying him against the stone. I touched his cheek and broke our lips, kissing down his face and to his neck. "T-that's enough!" He cried as I removed his tuxedo coat and slipped my hand underneath his shirt. I paused and yanked my hand away, sitting up upon his pelvis.

"I-I'm sorry, my Erik, I-I didn't...I didn't know...I just...I love you _so_ much" said I as he sat up and hastily pulled on his coat once again, he was shaking.

"I-It's quite a-alright, my love, I just...I wasn't ready for..." he cleared his throat "yes, you understand what I mean. I love you more, Persephone, infinitely more; come, my girl, I will take you where you will live for the rest of your days" said he, standing and brushing himself off, he took up my hand and then led me to a small boat he called a 'gondola'.

**_(A/N)_**

_**Yes, yes, I know this chapter doesn't have many major plot undoings in it, but, once in a while we all need a gentle, fluffy chapter in such a dark story...do we not? **_

_**That is all :) **_


	20. The House on the Lake

(A/N)

_**Hey guys! I have a schedule for my musical! Saturdays, Sundays, Mondays, Fridays (and sometimes Tuesdays) I will be able to update regularly. Wednesdays and Thursdays I have to stay at school until six and have no time to write. Sorry! **_

_**It's how my dance teacher is working things! Please bare with me for a few months (or, until whenever I finish this book...and finish 'Limelight', I've been meaning to update that! I will more than likely begin another Phanfiction because I literally cannot function if I'm not writing one.) And that's all she wrote, haha. Enjoy!**_

_Chapter Twenty: The House on the Lake_

-* Erik gently pushed us along in the gondola, hanging candelabras gave off a golden glow, lighting the way for us. There were also two lanterns attached to the front of the 'gondola' so, if by some chance, any of the candles go out, we could still find our way. There was a thick mist hovering upon the top of the lake that sparkled golden from the light of the candles; I was awe struck. It was so beautiful down here, more beautiful than any botanical garden or park or square! Soon, I saw a shoreline appear!

This shoreline was different from the first shoreline. This shoreline was made of sand and my shoes sank into the sand as Erik helped me out of the little gondola. Again, I was wonderstruck at the scenery about me! The sand ended a little ways in and concrete stairs began, leading up to a platform that held a large, black organ covered in used music sheets, ink, and thousands of burnt down candles as well as burning ones. To the left and right of the organ were golden encased mirrors covered in red, heavy, velvet curtains with golden tassels; I figured these were old, stage curtains. There were more stairs leading up from this, to a black door.

In the door, we went into a room he called his 'drawing room' which consisted of a cream coloured carpet and cream walls; a purple and red silken rug laid in the middle of the room, a white couch sat on one side of the carpet and two, white chairs sat on the opposite side. Before the sitting area was a black fireplace and in the far right corner of the room was a sleek, black piano. I counted fourteen, golden, standing candelabras in this room. On the far wall (opposite wall to the fireplace) was another door; Erik said that door led to a washroom. He took up my arm and we walked forwards to find yet another door on the front wall!

"This leads to the dining room" said he as he opened the door for me. The dining room adorned dark, hardwood floor with black walls and a dark, oaken table with sculptures of angels in the legs. A navy blue rug with golden tassels sat beneath the table. From the ceiling hung a golden chandelier; and along with that there were seven standing candelabras. I counted four doors in this room; one on each wall.

Erik walked forwards and opened each door; he looked to me and led me through the door on the opposite wall. "This" said he "is the Louis-Philippe room" he finished; the Louis-Philippe room adorned dark green carpet and black walls, in the middle of the room sat a dark red rug with golden tassels. There was a red fainting couch sitting on the right hand side of the rug, on the left sat a regular, red couch. Beside the couch sat dark, wooden drawers with golden handles; I counted five candelabras. At the front of the room sat a large table (around the size of the dining table) with a small bag atop it, along with a scorpion and a grasshopper statue; now, what William told me surfaced in my mind, I sighed silently and shook my head slightly, ridding myself of those thoughts.

Behind the red couch were black stairs that led up to a small, red curtain; my brows furrowed. "What's up there, my love?" I asked, starting towards the stairs, Erik gasped and grasped my waist, pulling me away from the stairs.

"I-It's nothing, my angel, nothing! Nothing of your concern, my love." Said he, smiling and kissing my cheek hastily. He took up my arm and led me back into the dining room, to the right we went and through another open door; it was a kitchen! It wasn't particularly big, but, it was only him living down here. "We can extend it, if you would like..." said he, he was nervously clasping and unclasping his hands, I smiled to him.

"I would love that, my angel" I said, kissing his nose and hugging him tightly. I couldn't understand why he was so nervous! Or, maybe, I was wrong in not being nervous? I didn't know, I wasn't too good in reading 'love signs' as Abelia calls them. He smiled and chuckled, kissing the top of my head and leading me out of the kitchen; I noticed, however, there was a door in the kitchen we didn't go through.

"Oh, that? It's only food storage, my angel" Erik answered, I nodded and followed him back into the dining room. We walked straight across the dining room, down a small hallway with black walls and a decorative, red rug with golden tassels, and into a very dark room. "This is my bedroom" said he, lighting a few candles. The walls were a dark black, darker than any of the other rooms, the floor was hardwood but covered in a blood red rug, an organ, larger than the one on the platform, sat on the right wall, along with a table full of music sheets and eight candelabras!

On the left wall was a wardrobe and more drawers along with two candelabras, and on the back wall was a closet and two more standing candelabras. But, what really struck me about this room, was that there was a black coffin sitting smack dab in the middle of it! My vision was clouded for a moment and I was brought back, a few months before, to my home in Whitechapel with my mother's poorly made pine box sitting in the middle of the living room. My eyes were stinging and burning with the immanent bite of tears and I bit my bottom lip; I couldn't cry, not now, not in front of my Erik! Alas, the memory of my mother was too strong and Erik's skill of observation had become sharper.

"My love! What is the matter? Are you frightened? Don't worry, we'll get rid of it, I-I can go throw it in the lake at this very moment!" My Erik assured, hurrying towards the coffin and lifting it above his head.

"N-No" I managed to squeak out "no...I just...my mum...and...her coffin...and..." I trailed off, sobs taking over my voice. "I never got to say goodbye" I whispered; Erik set down the coffin and enveloped me in his arms, wrapping his cloak around me in doing so. I sunk my head into his shoulder and cried, letting my feelings, for once, take hold of me. I just felt so comfortable with Erik, I loved him, after all, and, if showing him my feelings didn't say that I loved him, I don't know what would! Erik walked over to the organ with me and sat down, placing me on his lap; there he sang me soft lullaby's and laid his cheek against my head whilst giving me tender kisses time and again.

He did this until I calmed and regained my composure once more.

He wanted to bring me back up to the surface, but, I wanted to continue with the tour; he smiled. "There's only one other washroom, next to the Louis-Philippe room, my angel." He explained.

"What about the stairs?" I asked as he led me back into the Louis-Philippe room.

"They're nothing, my angel, as I've said before" said he with a smile down to me; he sat with me on the couch and sighed. "We'll get a different bed...a king sized bed, for the two of us. We'll move your things down in an hour, but, for now, I would like to rest" he said, sighing and laying his head back; I smiled and cuddled up against his chest, smiling happily and wrapping up in his cloak.

-* An hour later and I was packing my wonderful dresses and sparse belongings into cardboard boxes. Abelia stood dumbly in the threshold to my bedroom and gave me a strange glance. "I'm moving in with Erik!" I said excitedly, giggling.

"Who?" Asked she, her eyebrows furrowing.

"The Opera Ghost" I answered, and Abelia smiled.

"So, you finally learnt his name, huh?"

"Yes! It's actually quite a masculine name, you know?" I said before pausing "it suits him well" I added with a grin, Abelia gave a playful scoff and rolled her eyes with a smile.

When all of my dresses and things were packed it came up to four boxes; quite a nice improvement from one, measly, leather satchel, eh?

I took up two boxes and Abelia took up two boxes; Abelia was the only person I trusted with the secret of my and Erik's home. Erik made me swear to him not to tell _anyone_ where our home was; but, I talked him down into just letting Abelia in on the secret and making her swear upon her life to never tell anyone. Naturally, she agreed. Erik would come get us in the gondola, mostly because, I didn't know how to 'drive' it.

Abelia and I sat on the far shore, waiting for Erik to return to us. We sat for around ten minutes until Abelia rubbed her face. "How is he supposed to know that we're here?" Asked she, turning to me with a weary expression. The whites in her eyes were red and she had the faintest touch of black bags hanging beneath her bottom eyelids; her top eyelids drooped and her posture was slouched.

My lips pursed in thought, I hadn't thought of that question before! How would he know that we're down here? I stood from the stone ground and cupped my hands around my mouth. "Erik!" I cried, pausing and listening to my voice echo off of the walls "Erik, we're here!"

I added, pausing again and shrugging to Abelia. I resumed my seat next to my friend and asked her about her tiredness. "Oh, I've been having nightmares lately...horrible nightmares" she said, rubbing her face again and sighing, laying down and giving a soft groan.

"What are they about?" I asked, looking down to her, supporting myself by my elbows. She waved her hand as to dismiss my question. "No, no, I want to know, Abelia"

"You need not the trouble, Percy. Just because they're about you doesn't mean you need to know" she said, I paused and my brows knitted together.

"T-They're about...me?" I asked, wondering if I was the one who was scary in her dreams. Her eyes opened wide at her spoken mistake.

"No, no! Percy! God, damn, I didn't mean to say that..." said she sighing in frustration. "You're not the 'bad guy' in my dreams, Percy, you're the...the...the main character. The dream revolves around you" she explained, I nodded and looked out to the glittering, inky lake.

"If I'm not the 'bad guy' then...who is?" I asked, glancing down to her once more, she smiled.

"Firmin"

-* Moments later Erik came along in the gondola and took us back to what he called 'the house on the lake'. Before I entered the bedroom I braced myself again; I didn't want another accident like before. But, when I _did_ enter my and Erik's bedroom I found that the coffin was gone! However, there was no_ bed_ inside the room either. "W...where..?" I asked, pointing to where the black coffin once laid. Erik smiled and wrapped his arm around my waist.

"I threw it in the lake...I won't need it anytime very soon...now do I?" Asked he, happily taking the boxes I once carried and opening them, taking out the dresses and mingling them with his evening suits in his closet.

-* I wish I could say that moving in with Erik was all we did that day, but, I cannot. A far more, strange event ensued that day as well. The Palais Garnier's dance instructor had been in need of replacing for some time now (Abelia told me) and a few days ago M. Moncharmin and my uncle hired a new one; he was tall, in his mid forties, acquired no facial hair, and, in his skull were two, beautiful, aqua marine eyes. I stood with Abelia on the stage; Erik was going to purchase the king sized bed he was fantasizing about. The rest of the girls stood with us as well.

The man introduced himself as Vicomte Devere Leon, he smiled at everyone...and then he looked to me. Something strange flashed over his face, something equivalent to remembrance, and also, something that appeared as disgust. "Excuse me, mademoiselle" he said, walking over to me "could you please say your name and title in the opera?" He asked with a plastered on smile; he seemed anxious, however, by the way he held himself and incessantly continued fiddling with his fingers.

"Persephone Kardine. Primadonna." Said I; now, a definite look of remembrance passed over the man's face; he smiled and shook his finger at me.

"I remember _you_" he said, but, his tone was quite less than pleasant. "Monsieur William told me of you" he added.

"You're friends with Monsieur de Chagny?" I asked and Devere nodded.

"I know the entire de Chagny family! Including the newest member, one Mrs. Christine de Chagny, the once Christine Daae." Devere paused and stepped closer to me, coming within an inch of my face; I attempted to back away but he grasped my shoulder and squeezed. "I suggest you heed Monsieur William's advice Miss. Primadonna; Monsieur Erik can be very, extremely..._destructive._" Devere finished, letting go of my shoulder and turning; jumping off of the stage and sitting in the first row of red, velvet chairs.

He wrote something down and called to a page boy, who took the letter in an envelope away.

-* That day we went over several routines and everything seemed normal; however, I kept a weary on Monsieur Devere. It was after we preformed a pas de chat and when we were in the midst of performing pointe pirouettes; I was in the arabesque position, spinning quite quickly, faster than I had ever spun before! Everyone clapped and I began to slow, but not nearly enough to be able to stop myself without injury; Monsieur Devere told me to stop spinning, he said I would soon vomit. I said to him that I could not and he chuckled "just put your leg down" said he; I did as he said and lost my balance; I _was_ on the tip of my toe, you know! The foot that carried me in my pirouette was caught between two boards on the stage and I felt my ankle crack as I fell.

I cried out in agony and yanked my foot from between the boards, grasping it tightly with both hands and groaning/moaning in pain. I heard gasps and felt small, cold hands all over my arms; the girls were asking me if I was alright. I couldn't respond, my pain overtook my vocal chords. This was the first bone I had broken, ever, and it was_ the most_ pain I would be in for a long time. Monsieur Devere meandered over, taking his own, sweet, sweet time and finally bent down to it; my ankle was already beginning to heat up and swell.

He said I had to dance.

He said I had no choice.

That I had to 'grit my teeth and bare it'. He smirked; "after all...isn't that what Monsieur William did when you broke him?" He said, I felt rage bubbling up inside me, the last I felt this type of rage was at my birthday party when William insulted both me and my Erik.

I would show this man_ 'gritting my teeth'_ and_ 'baring it'_.

And so, I stood and continued the routines; falling every once in a while, only to be looked at pitifully by my friends and costars and gingerly helped up. I could tell my repetitive falling was starting to try Devere's nerves; he cringed in anger every time I fell. "Oops...how clumsy of me" I said with a painful smile to him; it had to be the twentieth time I fell on my bum in an hour! Devere turned to the girls and told them to take five moments for water; I watched the girls hurry away and peek out from behind the red curtain. Us girl costars are protective of each other, we're not that strong, we're not that good at fighting, but hell if there's not power in numbers!

I stood up on my own, lifting my swollen right foot off of the ground. Devere smiled to me and walked over to me; his hands sunken into his pockets. He smiled to me again, and, without warning, I received a blow to the face! Within seconds I was upon the ground; holding my cheek and feeling where his fist connected. My breath came in short spurts; I was shocked at the blow, I thought he might slap me, but never punch me with the intensity and force that he did.

He bent down to me and moved my hair which was curtaining my face. "That was for Monsieur William, Mademoiselle Persephone. William has many, many colleges and many, many people who he has spoke of you to; many, many people who he has described the roof incident to...many, many people who love and cherish him he way you will learn to" said he, pausing I turned and spat in his face.

"Never, you piss-proud_ strumpet_" I hissed; my anger was flowing freely through me; I felt I could rip his head off with a few yanks! He wiped the spit off of his face and smiled, standing and kicking me remorselessly in the stomach multiple times; I lost count after ten kicks. I heard the pad of small feet and a great din in the orchestra pit! Devere cried out and grunted and I heard women's grunts mingling with his; I heard quite a few thuds as well. Someone grasped my arms (I closed my eyes) and pulled me away; my head hung back and I groaned in pain, my insides wanted to become my outsides.

I was lifted and placed on a cushion; "hurry!" I heard a woman cry.

"Is that all of us?" Someone else asked, then, counting began; it seemed that everyone was there.

"Oh, god, he's killed her!" One of the girls squealed, a few of the girls cried out in horror but Abelia quickly hushed them.

"Stop, stop! Look, don't you see? Her stomach rising and falling? She is alive, girls; besides, we cannot be loud, we don't know where he is and if he's unconscious or not. Now, I need several wet, warm rags, a few blankets, an empty bucket, some warm water, tea, gauze, two, wooden boards, and some tape."

Abelia ordered, several of the girls said "oui" and were off. I opened my eyes and looked to Abelia, I began to explain what happened but she shushed me.

"Stop talking, Percy. Just breathe, don't worry, the managers will know about this" she growled, I saw fires burning brightly in her eyes; I smiled and felt blood run down lip...how was that happening? Did he kick my face? I didn't remember.

"Erik's going to go ballistic" I whispered, she smiled.

"Right you are, my dear. He'll have that man's head on a stake and his body hanging from the chandelier of William's home!" She said with a laugh, I attempted to laugh, but it turned to coughing and then hawking up god knows what. There was a short pause and then I turned again to Abelia.

"Abelia?"

"Yes, Percy?"

"Do I still look pretty?" I asked with a laugh; I knew I looked repulsive and battered, black and blue and red all over!

"You always look positively sensational" said she, smiling and patting my hand; I smiled and closed my eyes again; sighing and feeling pressure on my chest, even though it hurt, thankfully, mercifully, I floated off into the world of the subconscious.


	21. Sprain

_Chapter Twenty One: Sprain_

-* I was roused to the sound of a door opening and closing; I quickly turned over to find a few of the ballet dancers standing sheepishly near the threshold. "Sorry, Mademoiselle Persephone" the girls said in harmony, I nodded slowly and Abelia appeared, walking in from the kitchen; wiping her hands on a washcloth.

"Did you find him?" Abelia asked, the little girls shook their heads.

"No, Mm. Abelia, we caught sight of him and attempted to follow, but he was simply too fast; he walks like lighting, Mm. Abelia! His step is as silent as a cat's and he's as stealthy as one too! Oh, Mm. Abelia, it is impossible to follow a man like that! Especially if he does not want to be found" the same little girl who apologized to me said, Abelia nodded and turned to me; she shook her head and sighed.

"Who?" I asked quietly; my need to vomit had passed with time, but my stomach still ached and there was incredible pressure on my ankle. I glanced down to see that my ankle was held straight between two, hardwood boards that were taped together; my ankle was wrapped in white gauze.

"Your Opera Ghost" Abelia replied, she turned back to the ballet girls. "Go back out and if you see him, yell that Penny is injured; there is not a single doubt in my mind he will not oblige you then. Off with you!" Abelia said, shooing them out. She sighed and threw the washcloth on the counter in the kitchen, walking over to me and sitting on the side of the couch; she smiled.

Within seconds, however, the room was again filled with the gaggle of ballet dancers; Abelia immediately stood and was demanding to know why they came back when one of the girls silenced her. "Monsieur William is here with Monsieur Devere...they are looking for Mm. Persephone" the little girl whispered; all of the other little, ballet girls were pressed against the door, they had no need to, though. Even I, being impaired and quite a ways from the door, heard the monsieur's conversation.

"...A-And just like that? She spat in your face?" Monsieur William said; they paused conveniently before the door.

"Oui"

"What in God's name did you do next?" M. William asked; M. Devere sighed.

"Something that I'm not particularly proud of; I uh...I kicked her a few times" M. Devere said, there was a short pause and M. William began laughing.

"I beg your pardon; I thought you said that you_ kicked_ her a few times!" M. William said, still laughing.

"I uh...I did"

"You did..._what_?" M. William hissed, it sounded as if his teeth were gritted.

"Allow me to explain, Willia-"

"There is no explanation for that! Assaulting a woman? Especially the woman of my dreams? How dare you! How dare you even think-"

"It was for you! I gave her a taste of her own medicine, William!"

"That is no _excuse_, Leon!" Monsieur William yelled there was a brief pause and all we heard was William's elevated breathing. "I swear on everything I hold dear, Leon, you will taste something other than_ medicine_" William added; then, there were a few grunts and something that sounded like a body hit the ground. There was a peep hole in the door; out of this the ballet girls had stared the entire time this argument ensued.

Apparently, William punched Vicomte Devere so hard he fell to the ground!

But, to me, there seemed to be something off about it. Nothing in particular, just, the entire conversation seemed...staged.

Rehearsed.

A few moments later and Abelia sent the girls away again; away to go get my Erik.

-* By mid-day Abelia had given me wooden crutches so that I may be mobile. After an hour or two of practicing them by pacing about the rooms, I felt I mastered it. Abelia said she would call the doctor in an hour or so; after Erik learnt of what happened. I had no idea why she wanted to wait until Erik knew, but, it didn't bother me, I would get to see my Erik!

Half an hour after this I heard the soft padding of ballet dancer feet and quick steps I identified as my Erik's. I smiled and the door was thrown open; I stood behind the couch and smiled as he entered the room, he wore a black, floppy hat, a black suit, black, nicely polished shoes, his black cloak, and shiny, white, half mask. He took a few steps inside and I hobbled around the couch; I must have, indeed, appeared pitiful for he rushed to me and took me up in his arms, rocking me back and forth and holding me close. He sang to me and swore he would kill the very man responsible in the worst ways imaginable. "Who hurt you and how?"

Asked Erik; I sighed and explained everything to him, from when Abelia and I arrived onstage to a few moments beforehand.

Erik's grip on me tightened, his eyes narrowed, and he listened decidedly carefully. By the end of explaining the incident Erik was pacing quickly about the room; he yelled at the ballet dancers to leave, and, when they did not...he tore off his mask.

They screamed and shrieked and ran out as fast as their little legs could carry them! Some girls even started weeping in fear! He returned his mask to his face and turned to me; it seemed he was possessed! His eyes, oh, his eyes! They were a seething bright yellow which was a contrast from his hair which seemed to grow blacker as the minutes passed!

His shoulders were elevated and he ripped off his black gloves; throwing them into the hearth and allowing the fire to swallow them, stich by stich. His hands were large and his fingers were long; very long, the size of a quill pen, each and every one of them! His hands adorned lengthy, but clean, fingernails. The fire burned a hellish red as he mumbled and cackled to himself; pacing in the space before me.

Whilst he spoke to himself he made hand gestures; it was as if someone unseen stood in the kitchen and was giving him tips on things to do to M. Devere. He would laugh manically and an evil smirk would drawn upon his lips; I was a little afraid, but, he wouldn't hurt me.

Right?

Right! He would never dream of hurting me! He said so himself!

He turned away from me and hunched over; his breathing was irritated and he held some type of rope. I blinked in confusion...where did he get the rope? One cannot stuff a whole length of rope into their shirt! I started to feel something strange manifest in my gut and crawl beneath my skin; it was a feeling of eeriness.

Perhaps I should've left with the ballet girls.

I attempted to stand, using the crutch, but was only successful on falling back onto the couch; Erik heard my struggle and turned quickly, snapping out of the strange bubbling wrath that once tightly clenched him beneath its fingers. He hurried to me and sat beside me on the couch; he didn't say anything, he just stared at me and twirled my hair between his fingers. He paused for a moment and pulled his hands away from me, staring at them, his eyes were wide and fearful, as if he finally realized what he did. He frantically jumped up from the couch and ran to the hearth; reaching his hands forwards, into the fire.

"Erik! No!" I cried, moving forwards, dropping my crutches and landing on my knees. He held the scraps of the once leather gloves; quickly throwing them to the ground and running to my rescue. He helped me back up onto the couch and stomped on the hot scraps that were once part of his gloves.

He stared sadly down at them and sighed; I outstretched my arms to him, a motion that told him to come near me, but, he did not. In stead he shook his head and walked away.

Oh, no, he wasn't going to do this again!

I wanted cuddle time and that's just what I was going to get!

"Erik...Erik, get back over here, _now_." I said, Erik paused before the door and slowly turned.

"My angel-"

"No, no, no. Last time when I needed you, you were off doing something else; that's not going to happen again. Remember? You promised me you would stay with me, and, I _need_ you now." I said, he looked uncertainly down to his hands and then back up to me; it was as if he were ashamed of them.

"Please" I whispered "I need you, Erik" I finished; that was his breaking point. He walked back over to me and sat with me on the couch; though, he hid his hands from my vision.

-* The doctor's verdict was that I severely sprained my ankle. He said just because I felt it pop doesn't mean that I broke it; like I suspected that I did.

He also said it would take a while to heal; he suspected four weeks.

I deflated.

Four weeks?! That means, I couldn't be Primadonna!

At least, not for four weeks.

Erik stood beside me and patted my hand; kissing it every so often and giving a smile to me.

-* When we returned to the Palais Garnier, however, things took a turn for the worse. Erik wouldn't allow me to walk on my own; he carried me everywhere. He carried me bridal style back into the Palais Garnier whilst Abelia padded along slowly behind us, struggling to carry my crutches. In this moment I heard a voice, a sickening voice; a voice I spit at. "There he is!" Abelia said excitedly from behind us.

"Who?" Erik asked, staring Devere down.

"Vicomte Devere Leon" I said breathlessly. Erik gave a low growl and narrowed his eyes; his grip loosened and then he turned to Abelia and nodded. She placed my crutches on the ground and opened her arms; Erik transferred me over to Abelia's arms and then rolled up his sleeves. Abelia began to walk me away from the scene; but, I did a strange twist that cracked my back and caught sight of a black rope in my Erik's hands as he advanced towards M. Devere.

-* I didn't see Erik until Abelia freed me that night, it was around midnight and I, alone, hobbled down the stairs to the fifth cellar; after all, it was my home down here now. When I arrived I saw him sitting on the ledge with his trouser legs rolled up to his knees; his feet were dangling in the water and he smoked a cigarette. He turned when he heard me approach.

He was covered in blood.

His once white, cotton shirt was stained with crimson splatters and a few hand marks; his trousers were no different. His shirt was torn in several places, otherwise, besides his weariness, everything appeared normal. I hurried over to him and, with a slight struggle, took a seat next to him; Erik threw the cigarette in the lake. "What did you do to him?" I asked and he sighed.

"Nothing that you would like to know about, my love." Said he, pushing me gently backwards and laying on top of me, kissing me softly and twirling a strand of my hair. I smiled and the once light kiss turned into a more intense kiss of passion; I marveled at his sudden change in behavior.

Who knew killing someone once in a while boosts romantic drive!

_**(A/N)**_

_**Sorry if this chapter isn't what you all expected; its another fluffy chapter. Major stuff will happen in the next! I promise! Haha. I hope you've enjoyed this story so far! I would more than love to know your favorite characters/scenes! That is all :)**_


	22. Lakes and African Forests

_Chapter Twenty Two: Lakes and African Forests_

-* I yawned and stretched, expecting to wake on the far shore of the lake; instead I found that I was in Erik's bedroom! And I was laying upon an extremely fluffy mattress that was held in a dark wood frame of the bed; the bed itself had a canopy with a black, see through, fabric draped all around it. I glanced down to find that I was in a completely different dress! It was a pink sleeping gown with long sleeves and poofy, silken cuffs; the neckline was in the shape of a V. I sighed and noticed a hissing, crackling sound emanating a good distance away; next I smelt something delicious.

Bacon!

I threw the sheets off of me and slung my legs over the side of the bed; the homemade split still graced my foot. Though it didn't hurt as bad to walk; it ached and a sharp pang of pain shot through my leg as both of my feet touched the floor, which was, to my surprise, warm. I pushed the fabric over myself and sat on the side of the bed; searching the room with my eyes for my crutches.

Alas, they weren't in the bedroom; I sighed and thought of calling out to Erik, but, I needed to learn how to walk on my ankle...didn't I?

I sighed and gritted my teeth before placing my weight upon my feet; the pain came again, searingly this time, but, within moments it faded into a dull discomfort. I stepped forwards and very nearly fell to my knees! But, hunching forwards I grasped onto a small inn table which steadied me. I straightened up, gave a sigh, and took another step forwards; I wavered, but, all-in-all, I didn't fall! I smiled and waddled out of Erik's (and now my) bedroom, through the hallway, and into the dining room.

I peeked my head into the threshold of the kitchen to see Erik with his back to me but a pan in his hand. A black oven was working busily beside him to bake several biscuits (not cookies); he was already dressed! He wore his trademark black suit with shiny, black shoes; his black hair was neatly combed back and I saw the candle light shine off of his mask; I smiled but wondered how long he had been up to have readied himself like that. For some reason I didn't walk into the kitchen, I stood at the threshold for a moment and then turned, glancing over to the door that led to the Louis-Philippe room and I got a wonderful, awful idea.

I slowly backed away from the kitchen and gently grasped the golden door knob; turning it slightly and hearing a quiet 'click' before I was allowed entrance into the room. I silently shut the door behind me and turned to find Erik standing before me! I jumped back and almost lost my balance! His eyes were narrowed and his arms were folded upon his chest; his gaze was scrutinizing and a small smile arose upon his pink lips. He raised his eyebrows as I gave an asinine smile.

"You really thought I didn't hear you?" Said he "or didn't have alternative ways into these rooms?" He added, his fingers drumming on his arm.

"I...uh...I...curtain" said I, pointing to the stairs across the room which led to a small curtain; he sighed.

"No, angel, out" he said, reaching behind me and opening the door; all of a sudden there came a pounding and wailing on the wall where the stairs were! I looked up to Erik and my jaw quivered. "Out, now, Persephone! Get out! Go into the kitchen, your breakfast is ready, go,_ now_!"

He ordered, shoving me out of the room and slamming the door quickly; I heard his footsteps hurry away and there was another door slammed. The wailing and pounding were quieted in moments and I began to shake; I backed away from the door and bumped into the dining table. What on earth did Erik have in the room beyond the Louis-Philippe room?

-* The only reason I ate breakfast that morning was because Erik made it and I didn't want to offend him. Not that it wasn't absolutely delicious. But, my mind kept buzzing about that wailing; it wasn't a child's wail, it was the terrified wail of a grown man! A man in need of help. Perhaps the man was just clinging to life by a hair and that was his last ditch effort?

Tears set my eyes aflame as theories bubbled up in my brain; each worse and more demoralizing than the former.

Twenty moments after I finished my meal, Erik returned, he was free of blood but his hair was a bit of a mess; he was combing it back as he entered the kitchen. He smiled to me and quietly took up my plate, washing it silently in the sink. I sat faintly and bit my lip; there was a small indention where my teeth buried into it and it was now rubbing raw. I sighed and felt my confidence boost, I would ask Erik about that room, I would ask until he told me what was inside of it; even if most of me didn't want to know why that person was wailing, my curiosity overwhelmed my emotions. "Erik-"

"No, angel" he said in a light tone, rising the plate in steaming hot water. "You don't want to know"

"But, Erik, ple-"

"No, Persephone, you may not know what is in that room; it will frighten you and I _will not_ have that happen" he growled, turning to me, allowing the plate to fall into the sink. "Those are my final words upon the subject; we will speak of it no more." He added with a sigh "Persephone...I...I'm in love with you; I love you and I just want to keep you safe and your mental health is included in that too, not just your physical safety." Said he wrapping his arms around me and placing his chin upon my shoulder "I don't want to lose you" he whispered, softly humming to me; I nodded and we let the matter drop.

Erik walked with me to rehearsal! Which, I found quite odd, he normally would go join the managers or go write songs up in box five; but, today, he stood before all of us girls and ballet dancers and cleared his throat, silencing the room. "I bid you all good morning. You all are, no doubt, wondering where Monsieur Vicomte Devere is, hmm? He is on an_ extended_ holiday and for the next few weeks I shall be your instructor" said he, smiling over to me; I sat in the red, velvet chairs since I could not dance, he looked to me again and walked down from the stage, lifting me up from the chair and carrying me up to the stage.

"But, angel, I can't dance!" Said I, he smiled at me and winked. He set me down next to Abelia and sighed.

"I shall be your new vocal and dance instructor" he finished and we clapped, the ballet dancers were hesitant of him and watched his every move. "Some of you have seen my rage" said he, pausing and turning to the ballet dancers who nodded quickly. "Do what I ask of you in a timely manner and that will not ever happen, are we clear?" He asked, we nodded. "Excellent; to-day we will focus on vocals..." he trailed off "dancers, get chairs for everyone" he finished, the dancers nodded and hurried away to get a chair rack.

Within moments they returned and the chairs were set up in a large U-shape before my Erik; I sat in the middle of the U, before him. Abelia sat to my right (did I forget to mention that they made Abelia a singer too? I asked them to, or they would lose me) and a ballet dancer sat to my left; I still hadn't made many friends a the Palais Garnier. As Erik handed out music sheets I realized something.

I hadn't seen the Persian in quite a while.

What happened to him?

I desperately wanted to ask Erik, but, he was in a strange mood; he only addressed me as 'Persephone' or 'Primadonna'. Never as his regular 'Angel', 'Lovely', 'Darling' or 'Angel of Music' or, when he was feeling especially affectionate; 'Baby Girl' but, that was an extremely rare occurrence. It's only ever happened twice.

We sang quite a few songs and my, I don't think I've ever heard such criticisms! "You are singing in falsetto, Abelia, can you not read the notes? They are low, mademoiselle, not high! My, you should be completely able to sing it! You _are_ an alto, after all" he hissed, standing and pacing; all the rest of us were silent.

"I'm sorry, monsieur, I will try again" said she, trying best to keep her calm. We sang and sang and Erik kept spitting out criticisms to the girls; over the most menial things! When it was break time I approached him about it; he was reading over the next song when I came up behind him and began massaging his shoulders. I used to massage my mum's shoulders all the time; she claimed I had 'healing hands'. He sighed and laid his head back, closing his eyes.

"Angel" I said softy, his eyes opened "I know you're just trying to make them better, but, honey, you must remember that, when it comes to someone's career, you must consider that person's feelings in your criticism, okay? You've been...a little harsh on the girls...could you dial it down a notch, please, for me?" I said, quietly moving from his shoulders and kneeling down, placing my head and hands on his knees; he sighed and leaned forwards, plucking me off of the ground and into his lap.

"You know I'll do anything for you" said he, sighing and laying my head against his chest.

-* He did, indeed, tone down the criticisms, but, we moved at a faster pace. And when it was finally my turn to sing a solo it was nearly the end of rehearsal time and Erik was on his very last nerve. We all could tell. He leaned to the right in his chair with his leg folded over the other and his hand on his chin; his eyes were venomous and darted from cast member to cast member as we sang on.

When I sang, however, he was silent. I glanced up to him to see that his eyes were as soft as a cloud and he was sitting straight in his chair; a weak smile was sketched upon his rosy lips. He closed his eyes and listened to me sing; it calmed him.

And so, the lion fell in love with the lamb.

-* That evening, as Erik rehearsed with the ballet girls, I snuck back down to the fifth cellar.

I was going to see what was in that room one way or another.

The gondola was tied to a post, waiting for my and Erik's arrival later that evening; I came up with a plan. I would take the gondola back to our home, tie it up, see what was behind the curtain, leave, and tie it back up, voilà! It was fool proof!

Or, so I thought.

I untied the gondola and hopped inside, taking up an ore and pushing it gently along. 'Driving' it wasn't that bad, in fact, it was completely elementary! It was easy until I was half way to our home and I heard a strange singing; at first, I ignored the singing, but, then it got me thinking, I had never heard the singing before! However, I didn't stop paddling, admittedly, I paddled faster! Then, the boat rocked!

It's never done that before!

It did it again, but, it was more violent this time! I fell down upon my bum and looked around; but there was nothing out-of-the-ordinary. I shook my head and stood again, paddling faster than before; this was alright, save, the singing became louder and the once calm lake began to emit waves; but, these waves were not small. Oh, no, they were large; almost my height! The waves became so rough that I fell to the bottom of the gondola and clung to it for dear life; holding the ore close to me.

But, to no avail.

Just before I went under I had enough time to see a wave, almost twice Erik's height crash over the gondola! I, stupidly, let go of the gondola as I was forced underwater; I drifted for a moment and then swam up as fast as I could, for, I had not caught my breath before the wave hit. I broke the surface and gasped, the gondola was upside down and I swam to it; throwing my arms over the bottom and using it to help me float.

The water of the lake was cold and I shivered constantly.

The waves calmed for a moment, and then regained their savage might. I was pulled underwater several times by something unseen; and each time I fought the thing with all I had, apparently, when the first wave hit my gauze became loose and unraveled, the tape unstuck and the wood floated away; thus leaving my ankle exposed. Once, I was forced to kick the thing with my sprained ankle in order to achieve freedom and broke the surface with cries of pain clogging my throat. Whatever the thing was, it was pulling me farther and farther away from my home; I kicked and cried out and fought as much as I could, but the thing, whatever it was, was much, much stronger than I.

The thing grabbed my good ankle and pulled me down into the water; I pushed away from it as much as I could, but, my body decided to lay still; my limbs ached and from the coldness of the water I could just barely feel my fingers. The thing held my ankle and pulled me deeper and deeper down into the lake; and the water became colder and colder the farther down we went. My lungs burned and I began to cry; what if I died here? In the lake? No one would know, Erik would be so distraught.

I didn't want to die.

Despite everything that had happened in my short, abhorrent life, I didn't want to die.

I still had so much to do...so much to say. I touched my stomach and gave a weak smile.

_So_ much to tell Erik.

My lungs felt like tiny explosions were going on inside them; I became dizzy and let a scream that turned into air bubbles. All of a sudden, after my scream, the thing stopped; it unlatched itself from my leg and began pushing me up! It swam up with me very, very quickly until I was breathing air again! I gasped and the thing let go of me, I found that I was directly before the entrance to my home!

I pulled myself on land and fell onto my back, thanking, and cursing, that strange being in the lake.

-* When I finally caught my breath again I walked inside and pulled myself into the Louis-Philippe room; there was quiet scuffling behind the wall, but the wails were gone. All of the theories that had been floating through my mind were zooming through it again; my heart beat accelerated and I bit my lip once more as I touched the red curtain, gently moving it to the side to see nothing but darkness! However, there was a patch of darkness that was darker than the rest! I paused and glanced around; finally, I found a little switch connected to the wall, it was golden and I found it rather curious. Of course, being the stupid, little girl I am, I flicked it.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, as I turned back to the curtain, I saw light shining out from the bottom; I peeked through again and found it was a window! A window into a hexagonal shaped room with mirrors lining each side! There was a giant, grey tree with a red noose hanging from a branch; there was a man inside, hanging from the noose!

But, he wasn't dead!

He stared at me in horror, his entire body writhed with the lack of oxygen. The front of his trousers was cut open and there was a large bloodstain where his zipper should be; but, I saw nothing but flesh! Some of the man's fingers were gone and in the man's chest was cut a great 'T'; in the man's shoulders were hooks and the sharp edges jutted out. The man's right foot was missing, as was his nose! My jaw fell open and my hand flew to it; tears welled in my eyes as I watched the life escape from this man's body...the worst thing was...I knew the man.

It was the Vicomte Devere Leon.

I paused and finally tore my eyes away from my latter teacher to see his manhood sitting a few feet away from his body. A knife was stuck in his testicles. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I took one last glance at him; his mouth had fallen open, and inside, were his missing fingers! I almost vomited right then and there. I flicked the switch again and ran down the stairs, scrambling into the washroom and making it to the toilet before I saw my breakfast once more.

-* I took the gondola back to the far shore without incident; the pain in my ankle seemed so dull now that I couldn't feel it anymore.

The day passed, but I couldn't remove the image of Vicomte Devere from my thoughts; he deserved it, no doubt about that, he deserved to die. Anyone who touches a woman in a harmful manner deserves death, but, to be tortured_ that_ much...I was uncertain.

That night as Erik and I lay in bed together, he wrapped his arm around me and laid his head next to mine; bringing his leg over mine so I was immobile. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Devere's eyes staring back at me; his lifeless eyes.

-* I woke up, screaming, with tears falling down my cheeks. Erik was shaking me gently and I wrapped my arms and legs around him; clinging to him. I sobbed quietly into his shoulder as he whispered calming words to me and stroked my hair. "It was only a nightmare, angel, nothing can hurt you...no one will ever hurt you" he whispered, kissing my tears away.

"E-Erik?" I whispered through my sobs.

"Yes...baby girl?" He asked, I felt butterflies in my stomach.

"I did something bad" I whimpered.

"Tell me what happened" he said, rocking me side to side. And, I did just that, I told him everything. He sighed and became very quiet. "Now do you see why I didn't want you to look inside the African Forest?" he asked, I nodded quickly and buried my head into the angle of his neck. "Only time will rid your thoughts of the memory of M. Devere; but, I will do all in my power to accelerate it's forgetting."

He whispered, smiling to me and laying me back down; kissing my cheeks and sighing. He placed his head on my chest and smiled; apparently my bosom was a wonderful, warm, pillow. I smiled and giggled when he said this. "You mean everything to me" he whispered.

"And you are my everything" I said softly, laying my head back on my pillow and giving a weak smile. I ran my fingers through his hair and sighed; he liked it when I did that. I closed my eyes and he encased himself around me; providing a protective barrier from all the hellish nightmares that would surely engulf me, had he not.


	23. Noël

_Chapter Twenty Three: Noël_

-* "Jesus, bloody Christ!" Erik growled, throwing down his song book and grasping his ears; we all stopped singing as he paced angrily beside his seat. "If we are to sing in the Christmas show we _must_ harmonize!" Erik hissed, turning on his heel and staring vitriolicly at each and every one of us; he paused on me and sighed, shaking his head and turning away once again. It had been three weeks since the little episode with M. Devere and the waves of the lake; Erik never did explain to me why the lake did what it did.

Nor where the Persian was.

He only comforted me and spoilt me; he bought me jewelry regularly now, and, we went out together when we could. Planning the wedding and being our new instructor was guzzling up his time. He wouldn't allow me to help him plan the wedding that would take place a few months from then (I never knew the exact date, it kept changing so I stopped asking); he would only pat my hand and give me a kiss on the cheek. He told me he didn't want to stress me about it; yet, he was having a stress surfeit. And it killed me to see him like this.

He was almost always angry now; whenever I saw him in a professional setting he would run his fingers through his hair and sigh, grit his teeth and bark out orders. When he came home he would still be reeling from earlier that day; he would vent to me as I prepared our dinner (I wanted to try and start cooking; I was of age to) and sometimes, if the day was exceptionally trying, he would snap at me. Erik loved peaches, and so, earlier that same day (that he snapped at me), I made a special trip out to the market and bought him two, large baskets of peaches that were half my size! Abelia had to help me drag them back! Erik always needed a snack when he arrived home; for, he was always hungry when he got home.

I cut up three peaches and put them in a bowl along with some butter and heated it up, sprinkling cinnamon on top of it; I knew he would love it! I left the bowl on the counter along with his coffee and began working on that night's dinner, which, I believe we munched upon Chicken Fricassee with Tarragon; Abelia recommended that I try making it, she said it was easy enough. When he came home, he looked like he had been through a war; he was weary and struggled to stand, his eyes were alight with wrath and his fists seemed permanently clenched. He ate the peaches and sighed afterwards, but, he kept quiet, which was very odd to me. "Persephone?" He asked.

"Yes, my wonderful angel?" I asked with a smile; he gave a slight smile, but I could tell something was terribly wrong.

"Could you, please, make me a coffee?"

"Coming right up, _manager_" I said with a wink and a giggle; kissing his cheek and attempting to walk back into the kitchen, but, Erik's expression froze me in my tracks; he was standing to his full height with his hands clenched by his sides, his eyes were shut tight and I could tell that under his lips, his teeth were gritted.

"Persephone Kardine" He hissed, it seemed that all of the air in the room was depleted in that moment, and an appalling feeling took up a home in my gut. "Don't you ever call me a managerever again, do you understand me?" Said he, I could tell that he was attempting not to blow up, but in vain he tried this; "my god!" He cried his eyes shooting open; he turned from me and threw his long arms into the air in exasperation. His cloak swirled with his body as he raged.

"I am never to be one of those ignorant buffoons! How dare you even think to call me that? Why in the devil would you even compare me to such clotpoles? How dare you?" He turned back to me and held his pointer finger inches away from my nose, his eyes spat fire at me; his muscles pulsed in his rage, he was silent for a few moments and his anger began again.

"Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon! Curse you!" In Phantom's eyes I saw the very pits of hell bubbling up and spewing out their rage, I was shaking and I felt tears start to form at the sides of my eyes.

"How dare you?…I will never, never be one of those dimwitted fools; they care nothing about music, those imbeciles only care about money…but the music!" He growled, turning aside and glaring at me from his peripheral vision. I quaked in my socks; my heart beat accelerated until I could feel it beating in my mouth! I was sure if I opened my lips Erik would be able to see it!

I stood, frozen, in that spot for a few moments, fighting tears and trying to comprehend what he yelled at me; my hands were as cold as ice and instantly I felt sick. Erik sighed and stormed away, to the Louis-Philippe room, and slammed the door shut. I silently moved to the WC farthest away from the Louis-Philippe room and shut the door behind me and cried; it seemed I was showing my feelings much too much nowadays. For; I was quietly wishing that Erik would hear and come to me, to comfort me; but, he never did.

No one had ever called me those things before, and I couldn't believe Erik would; however, it wasn't so much of his curses that I was devastated because of; _I_ caused him to become that angry. I didn't mean to, I thought it would be a funny joke; maybe even seductive, I never thought that he would react the way he did. Through clouded eyes I cleaned myself up and sat next to the toilet, I was afraid to go back outside; not that he would hurt me, I just had never been yelled at like that before. Never had I been called a 'prying little Pandora' or a 'little demon' before; I choked down loud sobs and wiped my eyes, maybe I was overreacting. Erik did have a hard day, and that's just what he needed was to be called 'Manager' to set him off, I pulled the final straw on accident; after all, I understood that it wasn't easy being a Manager (or acting as one).

I slowly stood and opened the door, Erik wasn't in the Louis-Philippe room anymore, I turned to see that the doors to our bedroom were closed. I listened closely to hear the 'clickity, clack' of his shoes upon the hardwood, he was pacing. I didn't know what to do, do I go in there and speak with him...and possibly make it worse? Do I leave him be and finish dinner? Or, do I leave him a note and take the gondola and find Abelia and ask her what the right thing to do was?

I fancied the third option.

However, I finished dinner and left it on the stove for him; I also wrote him a note that runs thus:

_'My Dearest Angel,_

_I never meant any harm when I called you "Manager" I actually thought it would've been a good joke and we would laugh; anyways, I am deeply and terribly sorry that I caused you pain at all. I am going to visit Abelia for a while; dinner is on the stove, it is Chicken Fricassee with Tarragon._ _My angel, you do not know how sorry I am. Please, please, I beg for your forgiveness, my love; I will do anything to see a smile appear on your wonderful face again, I will return later, I love you with all of my heart._

_-Love, _

_Your Little Dandelion'_

I sighed and quietly slipped on my shoes, only making but a sound to open the door and close it again.

-* "He did _what_?" Abelia growled, her arms were folded over her chest and her eyes narrowed. I sighed and explained what he said all over again; she nodded, stood, and vanished into her bedroom for a moment, only to return bearing a shiny, black pistol.

"Abelia, I'm here for advice, not an assassin" I said with a sigh; she burst into a fit of laughter.

"I am available for both" said she with a grin; I smiled. "Percy, the best thing to do is leave him be for a bit, and then, to-night, talk to him about it; tell him your feelings, and, if you need to, slap him around a bit. Then, cuddle and be done with it!" She said with a smile; I thanked her and went back home; Erik had emerged from our bedroom, but seemed unmoved by my absence.

There were moments that I doubted that he read the note I left.

Dinner was silent, until I couldn't take it anymore. "Erik, I-"

"I know" he said monotonically. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, my angel, things are quite hectic" he said, rubbing his face.

"Then, let me help you. Let me help plan the wedding, give me some responsibilities" said I, giving him a pleading expression; he grinned, kissed my hand, and looked up to me.

"No"

-* Coming back to the present day, Erik now sat back down in his chair and gave a frustrated sigh. "Persephone" he said in a defeated tone "sing the harmony alone; I need to hear _someone_ sing it correctly" he hissed; and, I did as he said, afterwards, he smiled and kissed my forehead; for the next few hours, we sang our little hearts out!

-* Christmas was almost upon us and I hadn't the time to buy presents! So, when the managers gave us the day off, the day before Christmas Eve, that's all I did; was shop!

After five hours of shopping I found something for nearly every one! A silver, engraved pocket watch for Monsieur Moncharmin, a black journal for Monsieur Firmin, a ruby necklace with matching ear rings for Abelia, a black cane and top hat for the Persian, but, for the life of me I couldn't find anything for Erik! A clock in the Place de la Concorde struck eleven o'clock at night when I walked out of a clothing shop with the Persian's gift. I looked about me and the entire square was filled with light and laughter, it did not feel like night. Although the temperature dropped and my nose and ears became red, there were people everywhere, most of them were skating on a homemade ice rink or in the bakery/book shop across the square.

I sighed and glanced down to my small purse to see that I only had a few francs left. I decided I would escape the cold so I walked over to the bookshop/bakery; I hadn't eaten all day so when I entered the bakery my stomach screamed and I instantly felt the full effects of my starvation. I felt as if I could eat everything inside the bakery! I sighed ruefully as I turned away from the sweet smell of bread and cakes rising, along with icing being created, and walked into the bookshop.

Hamish put me on a diet, I had gained a few unwanted pounds since I joined the Palais Garnier and Hamish wanted to rid me of them before I became too overweight. My mouth watered and my stomach grumbled as I walked in the aisles between the bookshelves, I didn't really know what I was looking for, actually I didn't know at all! I then stumbled upon a section labeled 'Cookbooks' and decided to look for recipes, then a thought came to me, what if I cooked something for Erik? I am a decent cook, but what does he enjoy besides peaches? That's when I had an epiphany, cakes, everyone likes cakes!

I scanned the section until I came upon a small cookbook with a music note on the front; it was labeled '_Recipes for That Music Lover in Your Life'_. I immediately opened the book and saw the perfect recipe for eighth note vanilla cakes, I could hardly believe it, I finally found the perfect gift! I ran and quickly paid for the book, leaving me with two francs; all I needed to do now was go to the market. As I left the bakery/ bookshop the clock in the square struck midnight. There was no possible way that the market was open now; it closed at least two hours ago!

I was disheartened and I almost fell to my knees in frustration. I still had to wrap all of these presents and somehow keep the recipe book secret from Erik! This was indeed a daunting task! The shops were closed and only the street lights illuminated my way back to the Palais Garnier; it was deadly silent and paranoia began to set in. Cabs no longer roamed the streets and the only thing that created noise was the constant 'click clack' of my heels upon the brick.

Soon the Palais Garnier came into sight; none of the lights were on inside the great opera house so I knew I had to be extremely quiet when I entered. The Managers had given me a key to the outside doors of the Palais Garnier, along with keys to my room and the costume room; as I came closer to the Palais Garnier one of the lights at the top of the opera house turned on and I saw a familiar silhouette behind a curtain, I smiled and then remembered the presents. I briskly ran and hid behind a nearby building, after a few moments of silence I peeked out from behind the building; the silhouette was gone. I smiled and as I started to walk out from behind the building when a hand gripped my shoulder, I gasped and fell down, in consequence, making the bags fall to the ground too. I turned to find the Persian standing behind me!

"Persian!" I cried happily; the Persian opened his arms and gave me a great hug. "Where have you been?" I asked softly.

"Around" is all he replied with; I smiled and nodded and together we walked back to the Palais Garnier; speaking in hushed tones. I walked back down to my old room, number 666 in the third cellar; I planned on wrapping the presents here, for, I wouldn't stand a chance wrapping them in my home now; Erik is much too nosey for that. I sighed andtied my hair behind me and readied the ingredients which were:

_-Two large eggs_

_- One cup of milk_

_-One cup of flower_

_-One tablespoon of vanilla_

_-A pinch of salt_

_- Two cups of chocolate chips (optional) _

_- A dash of cinnamon _

As I read more into the recipe book I found that the book also gave me little, purple, candy music notes; I smiled and took these out, setting them to the side for later. I turned to get a mixing bowl from a cupboard when my eyes read the time on a clock; it was already twelve thirty! These cakes would take at least one hour to prepare and two to bake, not to mention I had to make the icing and let the cakes cool! I then remembered I had to wrap the rest of the presents for my friends and I wondered where all my time had gone.

-* A few hours passed and the cakes were almost ready to go into the oven, I added in the chips and quickly mixed them in, whilst looking up at the clock; it read two o' clock in the morning. I shook my head but continued; just as the chips were mixed into the batter and I poured the batter into little cake tins the oven made a noise to tell me that it was ready to bake. I smiled and quickly placed the batter-cakes into the oven, then I turned and focused on the icing, the ingredients ran thus:

_-Two cups of sugar_

_-One cup of vanilla_

_-One tablespoon of milk_

_-Two tablespoons of molasses _

After half an hour or so of mixing the icing was finally ready and boy, was it delicious! I hoped Erik liked sweet things, because his sweet tooth would be satisfied for a few years if all went according to plan! The cakes were still batter so I opened the pantry and took out the gifts for my friends, along with a golden wrapping paper and a variety of colored bows. I sat down upon the floor in my bedroom and started wrapping the presents; I already decided that I was going to place Erik's cakes on a plate and place a bow on the plate along with a romantic note. I knew he was just going to love it!

As I wrapped the last present the scent of the rising cakes flowed from my kitchen into my bedroom; I sighed happily and carried the presents to my desk, setting them down gently. I then ran to the oven to see that the cakes weren't even near completion! I strolled back into my bedroom and wondered what I should do next, I looked to the clock once again; it read three forty five in the morning. I sat down on my couch and decided that I would rest my eyes for a bit, besides, the oven would wake me when the cakes were done. Wouldn't it?

-* I stirred to a horrid smell, and a ringing…that's when I realized what happened. My eyes shot open to see my room was veiled in a black smoke. I coughed and jumped up, running to the oven, grabbing a cloth and yanking the cakes out; I placed my cakes down on the countertop and ran to the door, hastily opening it and letting chill air inside. I was coughing, but soon the room cleared and I saw the damage that my sleep had caused. The cakes were covered in a black coating, I gingerly pulled one out and it hit the counter.

The charred, black coating was knocked off, but, underneath it didn't appear any more appetizing than the surface; I had burnt the only present for the man I cared most about. my hand covered my mouth as I felt tears gather on the sides of my eyes. I slowly looked over to the clock, it was five o'clock in the morning; there was no way I could find a suitable present in time!

My gaze was slowly brought back to my horrible cakes, and this time I couldn't hold my tears back; warm tears fell from my eyes and hesitantly rolled down my cheeks, I ruined his Christmas present. I utterly, utterly ruined his surprise that I had worked so hard to find and create; his once wonderful present sat before me, burnt and inedible.

Everything seemed to be going wrong.

Then, I heard a clatter behind me and I felt his muscular arms wrap round me, his hands rested on my waist and his lips kissed gingerly touched my cheek; he looked up from me and saw the book, gently pushing it to a close and smiling at the title. His right arm left my waist and took up the cake that I had taken out of the tin; he then dipped it inside the icing, as he was bringing it to his mouth I pushed it away. I turned to him and held his arm, he smirked, winked, and bit into it; all the while watching my expression.

"A bit crunchy" he commented "but that's the way I prefer it" he whispered with a smile, setting it down and lifting me off of the ground.

-* He held me all the way down to our home, and then, resumed carrying me when we touched the far shore. He brought me into our bedroom and my eyes enlarged as I spotted rose petals that spelled out the words 'I Love You' lying on the bed; and beside that, on the inn table, was a bottle of sparkling champagne and chocolate dipped strawberries.

"Angel…" I whispered, breathlessly, he smiled.

"Merry Christmas, my Angel of Music" he said laying me down and then climbing into the bed and messing up the rose petals, his head was propped up by his hand and he laid on his side; facing me; I clambered in beside him. I instantly sunk into the plush bed, it felt as if I was lying on a cloud, I smiled to him and my tears returned. "Oh, Angel, please, do not cry; have I done something wrong?" He asked as he gingerly touched my cheek, I smiled and wiped my eyes.

"Oh, heavens no! Angel, you've done so much for me and I…I haven't done anything for you" I whispered, Erik chuckled and wiped away my tears. I hadn't had anything this nice before; no one had done anything like this for me, no one. I was overwhelmed and...I didn't know what or how to feel; I just, felt.

"My Angel of Music, you've done everything for me; I have learnt what love is and I have been blessed by you. You saved me, angel...you love me for who I am and that is the best present of all" he paused and smiled "I don't need material objects so long as I have you." He whispered gently touching my cheek; I rolled on top of him and pulled our lips together, he chuckled darkly and turned the tables, rolling on top of me, and pushing my body deeper into the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and grasped his hair whilst my legs encased themselves around his pelvis, he purred and started twirling my hair before he broke our kiss and we both gulped down air.

"Angel" He growled his voice had become low and lustful, his eyes darkened and became craving; my heart was doing the tango in my chest, one minute he was nervous of romantic physicality and the next he yearned for it! He was (and still is) incredibly confusing.

**_(This is just a little warning to those who...well...let's just say it gets a little bit steamy in the next little bit here; if you don't nessicarily like these things, go ahead and skip this. I promise, you won't miss anything. If you like this stuff; read on!)_**

Now I felt Erik's hands grasp the top of my dress and I heard it start to rip, "I hunger for you, my alluring angel; you are the only thing that matters to me." Said he, my eyes closed as I felt his hot breath on my neck and he quickly kissed my jawline. "Angel, let me give you all the love both my mind and body can muster." He whispered, his hand stopped ripping my dress but went underneath it and started groping my legs, touching a very bad place.

"Angel…I don't know if we can…I mean, we're not even married, but I….I love you, but, but…we're not married." I whispered, looking up to him, he smiled and his eyes softened.

"Be hushed, beloved, let silence overcome us; let our bodies quietly entwine and when you can't take it anymore, I want you to scream louder than you ever have before." He said very breathily, causing my cheeks to redden and my breath to quicken; my pulse skyrocketed. "Touch me" he whispered as I moaned and arched my back "let silent seduction take you, elongating every sensation; savor every moment of them, please, allow me to show you the true meaning of love...please, Persephone, please" he whispered, breathing heavily on my neck.

I moaned quite loud as he pressed deeper inside me; his breath came much quicker now; meeting my skin and making me tremble and shake with fervor. I was whimpering and groaning, yearning for him; I pulled him close to me and hugged him, he pressed so deep inside me that I let out a small 'yip!' and I then felt my dress falling off of me, moments later and I saw my beautiful pink dress fall to the cold floorboards; I bit my lip and whispered his name, over and over. I felt my lungs start to burn and beg for air, but I was too distracted by Erik to listen to my body's pleas for oxygen; or anything, for that matter. I felt his hands moved away from that 'special' area and grasped my thighs exceptionally tightly, I could no longer feel my lips and my nose was quite numb; but I didn't care.

Finally, when my lungs were screaming and I felt as if I was going to pass out; Erik disconnected our kiss and starting biting my neck, I gasped and placed my hand loosely on the back of his head. "Erik…" I moaned, gasping and gulping down air as fast as I could, Erik's hands moved from my thigh's to my backside and squeezed; I giggled, but continued to drink the air like soup, I was anxious for our kiss to continue. All of a sudden, his bite became extremely painful and I groaned, he kissed where his teeth marks left an indention in my skin and he grasped my hand; intertwining our fingers.

His lips were soft and warm, much like a mallow after it is touched by the flaming fingers of fire; how did I ever come to deserve such a man as he? He smiled and returned his fingers back to the 'special' place; I believe I cried out! His eyes were soft and amused as he smiled at me and kissed my cheeks. "M-Merry C-Christmas...Erik" I whispered and he gave a soft chuckle.

"Merry Christmas, my Angel of Music" he whispered into my ear.

**_(For those of you who didn't want to read the above mentioned section; you're safe now)_**

-* Grogginess overcame me as my senses started to return; my eyes opened at a snail's pace and, when they did open, there was a slight blur to everything. I lifted my hand from my side and wiped my eyes, and the blurriness disappeared. I yawned and slowly pushed myself up, and looked down to discover that my body was wrapped in Erik's cloak. All of a sudden, I heard the sounds of high heels on hardwood and Abelia quickly walked into my room, wiping her hands with a white rag! She smiled and walked to me with outstretched arms, I smiled sleepily and hugged her back.

She pulled me out of my bed and stepped back, she was assessing the damage done to my dress…and me; her head shook and she scoffed, rolling her eyes playfully. Afterwards I walked to the giant mirror at the back of my room; I was amazed at just how much my dress was damaged! I held the dress up to me and shook my head slightly, smiling.

Originally, my dress was to my ankles, but now the front of my dress was ripped to above my knees! The bosom of my dress covered close to my neck, but now, the bosom was transformed into a V-neck; and because of this V-neck Erik's bite marks were fully visible. I turned to my side to find a bruise where Erik had grasped my thigh; I smiled to Abelia who was staring at my bruise in the mirror, and gave a sheepish grin; she shook her head but smiled and pulled me to my wardrobe. Out of it she took out a turquoise dress with ruffles around the bottom and neck; I put this on and she tied my dress up from the back. "So, uh, how did you get here?" I asked, as she tied up the back.

"Your Opera Ghost brought me; he said he needed someone to look after you whilst he's gone" said she and I smiled; there was a slight pause, which, she quickly broke. "You had a uh...fun night last night, huh?" Asked she, I smiled and my cheeks flushed crimson. She turned me towards her and grinned. "You must tell me all about it!"

_**(A/N)**_

_**First of all, I would like to apologize to those of you who read the section that I warned about; Erik's lines are so cheesy! I know, I know, but, it's my first time writing something like that. Of course, it's going to be cheesy! Erik, if it were the way it should have been, would've come up with more intellectually complex things to say; but, me writing as him, not so much. Haha, anyways, I hope you enjoyed it and I didn't totally bore you to death!**_

_**It's almost 5,000 words in this chapter! Anyways, I apologize again! Au Revoir! **_


	24. Love Never Dies

_ Chapter Twenty Four: Love Never Dies_

-* Abelia blinked for a moment as I pulled her out of my home and pushed her gently into the gondola. I had just finished recounting to her the events of the day before; she cleared her throat and nodded as I picked up an ore and began rowing.

Thankfully, nothing happened to us on our journey to the far shore.

The entire Palais Garnier seemed to be bouncing with excitement! People were running around in different costumes, carrying boxes of decorations; the cooks were in dirtied aprons, dashing to ovens and stoves. Garland was wrapped around the banisters of the grand staircases; tinsel was wrapped around the chandelier chains and around statues, as well as standing candelabras (I wasn't so sure about tinsel near flames, but, I left the matter alone). Cotton was being torn in large chunks and placed around the rooms and; people also attached string to the ceilings and tied the open end of the string around a piece of cotton, making it seem as if it were a cloud. A row of ten people sat at a large table snipping up paper in the shapes of snowflakes!

Large, wooden nutcrackers were placed in every room; at least two per room! Miniature Christmas trees also sat in the rooms; a large one, that almost touched the ceiling, sat in the lobby of the Palais Garnier! Beautiful decorations adorned with glitter, gems, and sparkly crystal were hung on the tree, and, I was told, the star that went atop it was made of pure gold! A large gramophone covered in cotton played Christmas music and a fire blazed in every hearth in every room; for, snow lay white and quiet outside and on the Palais Garnier! I smiled as fat snowflakes rained down from the clouds above; giggling to one another before landing on the ground and creating an untearable quilt of ice.

Even though the wind blew and the snow fell, people still roamed the streets! Cabs ran about, being led with strong horses in jackets that puffed out smoke! I smiled and Abelia pulled me away from the window; back to the warmth of the middle of the room.

To the midst of the insanity.

People hummed and sang along with the music and generally, we were all quite exuberant!

Everything being done now was a preparation for that night's gala; it would be open to the public, and, I would sing.

As I walked with Abelia I felt my ankle, oh, how nice it was that it didn't ache or give me any pain! I didn't know how or why it healed so quickly; it had only been two weeks since I sprained it! I shrugged off the thoughts as Abelia yanked me further away from the door; there was a strange, almost fearful, expression on her face! I turned to find William walking inside, taking off his top hat, and behind him was a young (but still older than me) man with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes; a woman was on this man's arm, her hair was a light blonde, like mine, and her eyes were the clearest blue I had ever seen!

She was absolutely angelic.

Her lips were as red as a cherry in the summer, her skin reminded me of the snow that laid on her dark blue dress. She evoked memories of a broken porcelain doll I played with when I was little. Mum had found it sitting in a gutter; she cleaned her up, and gave her to me as a surprise when I was five or so.

The woman turned to me and we locked eyes for a moment, her eyes seemed to widen, it was as if she remembered me from somewhere. She spoke to the men, but our eye contact never broke; William yelled out my name and Abelia yanked me away, popping my arm out of socket.

Why must I become injured so easily?

But, Abelia didn't stop yanking away; in response to this, William, the woman, and the man began running after us. "Persephone! Please, wait!" William yelled out; but my eyes surpassed William and again locked on the woman...how could someone be so beautiful? Apparently, I slowed because Abelia yanked me even harder, I gasped as she tugged me up the stairs.

"Persephone!" William yelled in a pleading voice that made me pause for a moment, but, Abelia was incessant, she pulled me into the auditorium and over the stage; heading backstage where we thought we lost them. She was breathing heavily and popped my arm back into socket; I cried out but she quickly covered my mouth with her hand.

"Hush!" She hissed, there weren't many people backstage, but, there were a series of winding, twisting hallways that were dimly lit. My heart pumped so loud in my chest and the world around us was so quiet, I just knew it would give us away! But, it did not! In stead, Abelia and I hurried to her room, and, as I closed the door, I saw the woman peeking out from behind a corner; our eyes locked again, and I had the deepest urge to smile, but, I didn't. I looked away and shut the door; switching the lock afterwards.

I didn't tell Abelia the trio was right outside, I didn't want to stress her, and, besides, I wanted to speak with that woman. Abelia was cursing William's name and I sat quietly before her, nodding and providing moral support. I no longer hated William, if anything, I pitied him. Silence deluged us so I sighed and smiled "it was so beautiful out there, I wonder what it will look like at the gala" I said softly; Abelia smiled.

"Even more beautiful than it is now, Percy" she said, patting my shoulder.

-* At lunch we sunk out of her room and into the kitchen where Hamish gave me a great bear hug and placed me upon the counter top I once stood and sang on. I smiled and we spoke of different things, that is, until he saw Erik's ring on my marriage finger. He gasped and fell against the cabinets "I-Is that what I think that is?" Hamish asked, pointing to it, his eyes were large and a smile was stitched across his face, from ear to ear. I grinned.

"Yes!" I cried, Hamish gasped and helped me down from the counter, taking up my left hand and watching the diamonds shine in the candlelight.

"Oooh! _Bella mujer_! I've never seen a more fantastic ring!" He cried, smiling up to me.

"Yes! Isn't it? He spoils me" I said with a smile; I felt my cheeks turn red from excitement.

"He should! You are a woman deserving of the spoils!" He said with a smile, I laughed and hopped back up, onto the counter, staring down at my ring. Hamish began to hum as I watched my reflection in the diamond.

"I love him so much, Hamish; and the thought of sharing a life with him...it's the most wonderful thought I've ever head" I whispered, Hamish smiled and hugged me.

"Just let me make the food and we're fantastico, señorita" Hamish said off-handedly, yet, I laughed until tears fell from my eyes and my stomach cringed at the mere thought of a chuckle!

-* I felt wonderful, for some reason, after I left Hamish; he always made me laugh. I smiled and danced down the hallway; Abelia trailed after me, smiling at my horrid skills. All of a sudden I was plucked off of the ground and into someone's arms; I glanced up to see Erik giving an amused smile, I hugged him. He walked over to a chair with me and sat down, still holding me, he lifted up my left hand and kissed the ring. "I love you too" said he with a smile, kissing my forehead.

Now the two managers, M. Moncharmin and my uncle, M. Firmin, walked up to us; they were bickering about something. Erik glared at them and they instantly hushed. "Firmin feels it's best if Persephone sings _'Silent Night'_ but Firmin insists she sing _'O Holy Night'_" Moncharmin said; I smiled at his tizzy.

"Persephone will sing two Christmas carols and a third that is not. The third is a song of my creation. This may change as the evening wears on, but, as of now, this is the plan" Erik growled, Firmin attempted to interrupt but Erik glared at him "it is _not_ open for discussion" Erik added, both managers nodded and slowly walked away, whispering to one another. I laughed and Erik sighed, a small man walked up to us and addressed Erik nervously; something had gone wrong with the chandelier. Erik sighed and gingerly placed his index finger and thumb underneath my chin; pushing my face towards his.

I smiled as we kissed; I wrapped my arms around his neck and attempted to keep him seated with me. He chuckled and kissed my neck, kissing down my arm as he got up and kissing my hand multiple times before leaving; making sure to kiss the ring once more. I glanced over to Abelia to see, behind her, the woman's face from before appeared from behind a curtain! As well as the man's! But, I didn't see William anywhere.

I saw the whites in the woman's eyes and her lips were tight; the man gave a sigh and closed his eyes as if he was giving a silent 'oh, no'.

-* That night, the dress code was reds, greens, whites, golds, and blacks. I adorned a red dress with white lace around the neck and cuffs, along with golden swirls around the bottom. I smiled at myself and put on the diamond necklace and opal earrings Erik gave to me earlier in our relationship; I smiled at my appearance; Abelia grinned. "Now the outer appearance finally fits the inner" said she with a smile; Abelia wore a green dress with black accents.

Together we walked to the auditorium where we caught M. Moncharmin, M. Firmin, and Erik arguing. Then, Erik rolled his eyes and stormed away; Firmin caught sight of me and ran up to me "Persephone, you're on in ten minutes, you will sing 'Think of Me'" said he, gently touching my arm, I pulled my arm away.

"Why must I sing that? It's not a carol and neither did Erik write it" I growled, Firmin sighed in exasperation.

"Mrs. de Chagny is in attendance to-night, we wish to surprise her" Firmin said, agitation taking over his voice.

"No!"

"No?"

"No!" I cried "I will not sing her song in such a way, it is_ her_ song. Not mine. I will have my own song later; if I am to go on I will sing a carol or something written by Erik...as it was first planned" I argued; Erik returned bearing sheet music, he smiled and gave it to me. I had seen this song before!

Erik had written it a week before! It was called 'Love Never Dies'; he played the tune for me on his piano whilst I sang the words; although we cut it pretty close with timing.

I was told that every seat was filled in the auditorium; I smiled and sighed lightly. I was thrown into a different dress and sent out on stage.

The music was slow in the beginning and I glanced about the audience to see William and the woman and the man sat in box two. I sighed and began, the beginning of the song was quiet; whilst the middle and end are louder, all around, however, it was a completely astonishing song that relaxed me. As I sang, I glanced to the left to see Erik smiling to me behind the curtain; he stood beside Abelia who had closed her eyes and was smiling, entwining her hands together underneath her chin. On the crescendo I stepped forwards and opened my arms, emptying my heart and air into the words, hitting my highest note and listening to it bounce back to me; I had never gone as high as I went! I breathed and sang the last words with eyes of glass "love lives on".

All that were in attendance scrambled to their feet! They cheered and hooted and screamed! They chanted my name, as well as for an encore! I was thrown flowers, wonderful flowers; and given three bouquets as I was about to leave the stage! I laughed and bowed a few times; waving and smiling, they really loved me!

Even though I had sang many times, I still couldn't get my head around the fact that they loved my singing and wanted more of it! I smiled and bowed out, allowing the curtain to close me off from the rest of the auditorium; immediately I ran and jumped into Erik's arms, struggling to keep hold of the bouquets. "They loved me, Erik, they loved me!" I cried, crushing a bouquet between Erik and I; he chuckled and held me off of the ground.

"Why ever wouldn't they?" Said he, smiling down to me, I hugged him ever tighter.

-* Later on that evening, I read who the bouquets were from. One was from Erik, it was a bouquet of superb, red, blooming roses with black lace tied around the stem. Another was from Firmin, they were daisy's, and the last, the last was Mrs. Christine de Chagny! She gave me white roses.

Erik took the roses down to our home whilst I walked around the gala with Abelia; I had gained praise from all angles! It was amazing! It was until I felt a small, cold hand on my shoulder that my night had gone brilliantly. I turned to find the blonde woman from earlier! She wore a small smile on her perfectly red lips; "Miss. Persephone?" She asked.

"Yes, that is I" said I with a smile.

"I-I need a private word with you...if we may" she asked, she was nervous and her fingers twitched.

"Of course" I answered slowly; I mumbled to Abelia to follow us. The woman led me up to the roof; I was surprised she knew the way! On the roof there was the man from before! But, it seemed, no one else. The woman grasped my hands and pulled me close to the man and she; she smiled.

"My name is Viscountess Christine de Chagny, formerly, Christine Daae. And, this is my husband Viscount Raoul de Chagny; William's uncle." The woman said and my jaw unhinged, the woman that had been spying on me, the woman I wanted to speak with, was Christine Daae! She smiled at my wonderstruck expression and I quickly shook both of their hands; they laughed. "My dear, William has told us much about you and your...situation.

He also told us of the incident at your birthday party too...and we just...we wanted to tell you the story of Erik from our perspective." Said she, I sighed, I didn't want to be faced with this, not now, not ever. But, I knew I had to; apparently, she saw my face fall and she rushed to me; taking me up in a and bringing me close to her, like a mother would hold a child. When she let me go she giggled and apologized "I'm sorry, darling, but...when William said you lost your mother...I...well, I daresay I became protective over you; even though I hadn't caught the slightest glimpse of you." Said she, running her fingers through my hair and smiling.

"You see, Persephone, I am not able to have children. Heaven knows we've tried" Said she, her voice falling into the pit of sadness; Raoul touched her shoulder and she smiled up at him, I took up her hand and smiled.

"I'm sorry...if it amounts to anything" I whispered, she smiled.

"It is paramount, my dear" she said moving closer to me and tucking my hair behind my ears. She took up my hands and sat on the ledge of the roof with me. She sighed and looked up to Raoul and began her tale.

-* It was almost exactly as William told me, save, hers was more detailed since she was there and it happened to her. She paused afterwards and looked to me uncertainly. "He's not safe, Persephone, he's too dangerous...I see you two will be wedded soon, but, dearest Persephone, I beg of you, get out whilst you still can...while he hasn't taken you to his land of death and made you his Queen...please..." she said, fading into a faint whisper, a tear falling from her clear, oceanic eyes. My jaw quivered, I didn't want to hurt her, I didn't want to hurt anyone; I smiled to her and wiped away her tears.

"Oh, Christine..." I whispered "I love him, I couldn't leave him if I tried. For a number of reasons..." I said, trailing off and glancing down to my stomach; Christine caught this glance and her mouth fell open.

"But! No! You must be no more than fifteen!" She shrieked, jumping from her seat and flailing her hands; I smiled again.

"I am twenty years of age, Mrs. de Chagny. I am perfectly of age and he is doing the right thing; marrying me." Said I with a smile; Raoul stood between us, his brows were furrowed.

"I beg of your pardon, ladies, but...what?" Asked he, I laughed but Christine wore a worried, fearful expression.

"Erik is going to be a father" she whispered, sitting back down on the ledge; William ran out from behind a statue and fell to my knees, grasping my legs. Christine sat before me and shook her head "did he already take you to his home upon the lake?" she asked and I nodded. The paleness in her once rosy cheeks deepened. "W-was there a little bag?

A-and a scorpion and grasshopper statue?" She asked quickly; I nodded to both. Her head fell into her hands and I glanced down to William who set his forehead on my knee.

"He flooded it, remember? You turned the scorpion and you flooded the gunpowder room, he couldn't possibly have another! Maybe he just keeps them there to be...nostalgic" Raoul said, attempting to comfort Christine.

"Nostalgic?" Christine cried, jumping up again from her seat and staring at her husband. "Use your head, Raoul! It's Erik we're speaking of! He's got some plan ready..." said she hopelessly; Raoul sighed and massaged her shoulders.

"I doubt that" I said, the couple looked to me. "He's been stressed lately, what with planning our wedding and acting as a manager. Hardly enough to blow up the Palais Garnier; besides, when I tell him the news he'll be overjoyed...I know it" I said with a smile; Christine gave a small smile, but, when I glanced back down to William, tears were streaming down his face.

He knew all hope of gaining me as his own was lost.

I sighed and hugged him. "Although you may not have me, William, take a chance with someone else; you are a handsome man, William, a woman will, no doubt, come running to you in no time at all." Said I with a smile; William shook his head and Raoul interjected.

"Us de Chagny's, Persephone, are quite stubborn. That's how I came to have my Christine, if I'd have given up on her that night when I heard another man's voice in her dressing room, well, I wouldn't have a wife and you wouldn't have a fiancé." Said he, William turned back to me with pleading eyes.

"I am sorry, William, but I have made my choice. I am going to stay with Erik; be that the death of me or not. It is the choice I've thought of and made...I am sorry, William." I said softly; William shook his head and threw his arms around me, weeping silently into my bosom.

Apparently, I was the first woman he had ever loved; and he swore I would be the only.

It hurt to see him so broken; his heart laid beneath my feet in frozen shards, waiting for me to stand so that they may bury into my feet and bleed the essence of my heart. He, not only wept for me, but he begged and pleaded and then turned to bribery. Finally, my heart ached so bad at hearing his cries that I grasped his suit and yanked him to me; connecting our lips. He gave a gasp and I closed my eyes; it took him a moment to realize what was happening, and then, he grasped my waist and pulled me down onto his lap, placing his hand behind my head and twirling my hair. He hurriedly slipped his tongue into my mouth and held my own; he knew I would want to pull away soon and he wanted to delay that as much as he could, I guessed.

The kiss lasted longer than I expected! He held me to him as long as he possibly could; just barely releasing me before I could pass out. I gasped and he vigorously kissed my neck and chest; nibbling on my ear a bit and whispering to me his love. I allowed him to do this to me because, well, it was the first and only time he could and, I was too oxygen deprived to stop him. I stood and nearly fell over; Christine was faster, however, and caught me; steadying me and holding me until my dizziness passed.

William jumped up and kissed my cheeks over and over; he thought...well...I couldn't quite tell what he thought. William wore a large smile, I turned to him and sighed, I couldn't say anything so I looked to Christine, who, by her own telling, had done the same thing to Erik. She nodded and I went back downstairs; moments afterwards I saw William, Christine, and Raoul return, all with long, pale faces. Abelia walked up to me with a stern expression and, when I began to speak to her, she slapped me! I fell to the ground with my hands protectively before my stomach and slowly looked up to her; the entire party around us paused and stared.

"Why would you do that?" She growled, closing her hands into fists

"Do what, exactly?" I asked, glaring up at her.

"Kiss William? Why would you do that? You're engaged to Erik, remember?" She asked, yanking up my left hand and showing me my ring.

"Of course, I remember!" I yelled, shooting up from the floor "I love Erik, Abelia, believe me, I love him with everything a woman can love with and so much more. But, Abelia, there are some things a woman must do to keep her conscience from flying into turmoil; you would've done the same thing in my position. All the women here would! If a man was at your knees, weeping, praying to you to show a bit, just a bit, of love to him; you would all do the same thing" I said fading into a whisper, my eyes glassed over and the room cheered; showing that they, indeed, would do the same thing.

I sighed and walked away; hurrying to the flights of stairs leading to the cellars. I turned back only once to see Christine running after me; I flew down the stairs, to the fifth cellar, and jumped in the gondola, slowly paddling away and listening to Christine's shouts as I did so. Soon, all four, Christine, Raoul, William, and Abelia were on the far shore; yelling for me.

-* Erik stood in the kitchen, eating a peach he had cut up. He had stayed home after placing the roses in vases; he wasn't one for parties. I sighed and dropped into his arms; he chuckled and carried me into our bedroom, laying me down on our bed and sighing.

He cut a piece of his peach off and placed it in my mouth.

I giggled and sat up and layed on him "I love you, no matter what anyone else says...you're mine and I love you" said I, he chewed and nodded; kissing my forehead and gulping.

"I love you more...no matter how much I want to kill William for touching your lips again" He said with a smile.

My cheeks heated until they burnt scarlet.

"Oh, come now, my dear. Did you honestly believe that I would leave you at a party...all by yourself? No, no, never." He paused; he didn't seem angry...he didn't seem sad...was it a façade? He grinned "I'm not angry at you, angel, I know you pitied the boy, hell, even I did.

I understand your actions, just...don't ever...ever do that again." Said he, I nodded and hugged him.

"D-Did it hurt...seeing Christine again?" I whispered, my voice was muffled by his torso. He sighed.

"It certainly did pry open old wounds...but...your love stitched them shut again" he said, kissing the top of my head and laying back; placing the knife on the inn table beside him and the remains of the peach in the bin beside that. I had an epiphany, if he saw that...he knew he was a father! I got excited and grinned to him.

"So, you know then?"

"Know what?" Asked he, narrowing his eyes; I still sat up, but I turned towards him and sat Indian style before him.

"That...you know..." I said, motioning to my stomach, I didn't want to tell him yet if he hadn't heard it already. He eyed me suspiciously. "So...you don't, then" I said with a grin; "well, you've got a surprise now" I said, laying down beside him and cuddling up against him.

_**(A/N)**_

_**Before I get hell about throwing in 'Love Never Dies', let me give a little explanation. Erik did, indeed, write the song 'Love Never Dies' (as was seen in the movie/musical 'Love Never Dies' where he threatened Christine if she didn't sing it he would take Gustave and then found out Gustave was his son and used this against Raoul). I know it's not 'Christmasy' but I wanted to stray from the usual, and, I wanted to give Persephone her own sound. (In my AU, LND never happened; as you can see) I know I didn't focus on the 'Erik seeing Christine again' situation, and, I wanted to, I just couldn't incorporate it without making all hell break loose and causing this chapter to surpass eight thousand words. (I try to stick between two and four thousand) Or making Erik a complete meanie face. **_

_**And, I love Erik, so, Erik will stay amazing and wonderful. *Sigh* that is all, my dear readers, I enjoy updating and I will have another chapter out to-morrow! Au Revoir! **_


	25. Momma

_Chapter Twenty Five: Momma_

-* My heart palpitated as I gasped for breath and looked about me; where was I? I had to be somewhere in France...hopefully Paris. But the drugs were too strong! And the bag, too thick! I could've been back in England for all my muddled brain knew.

I sighed and attempted to walk, stumbling and falling over into a puddle on the cobblestone alley. I saw double of everything and cringed as my nails scratched against the brick wall of a building; that sound! Ah! How painful I now realized it was! I sighed and laid back; giving up on moving, or, doing anything for that matter.

My limbs ached and my brain was too dizzied with theories and drugs to command me to do anything. I sighed and closed my eyes slowly, praying I would wake up fine...or...wake up at all.

-Earlier that day-

-* It was a peaceful morning; Erik took me up to the roof and we watched the sun rise. I laid my head down upon his shoulder and smiled. "I'm so excited...can it be like this every morning?" I asked, looking up to him to see a weary smile bestowed upon his lips; the morning sun shot off the hotter colours from the rainbow; reds, oranges, yellows. The light shined against his face and bounced off of his mask; this coupled with the wind that slightly blew his hair in consequence of being at such a height, caused my heart to warm and melt in my chest.

His smile widened and he placed his arm around my waist. "Of course; we'll do this every morning. We'll get a little flat somewhere in the country...I've obtained more than enough money to sustain us, and, when we have a child, sustain and send that child to the very best schools. I can entertain you on weekdays" he said, pausing and grinning "I am the very first ventriloquist, you know" he added, my brows furrowed.

"Erik?"

"Yes, angel?"

"What's a ventriloquist?" I asked, feeling my cheeks flush crimson in embarrassment; I was intelligent, and quite so, I believe. Mum taught me everything I knew, and yet, she didn't teach me terms such as 'ventriloquist'. He smiled and kissed my hot cheek.

"There's no need to be ashamed, my love; many people don't know what a ventriloquist is. It's a person who can throw their voice. Here, I'll give you an example" he explained "close your eyes" he added, and, I did so and I listened carefully; he sounded very far away! Almost as if he were on the other side of the roof! My eyes shot open and I looked before me to see him smirking.

"That is ventriloquism" Said he. "Anyways, yes, we will do that on weekdays, and, on weekends I'll take you out; we can go to little antiquity shops or restaurants or...whatever you want. On Sunday nights I'll take you to the church and we can sit in the graveyard...it's quite peaceful there...no one seems to bother a man in a graveyard." He added, falling into a whisper as the sun burned fulvous in the aquamarine sky.

"That sounds so lovely" I whispered, clenching his hand tightly in my own.

-* Erik had to go talk with the ballet girls, apparently, there was a rumor being spread about me. I hadn't heard it, but, apparently, it spilled from M. Firmin's own mouth!

However, rumors are dangerous things; a person could be executed for so petty a thing.

And has.

I, however, remained in the shelter of the kitchen most of the morning; I liked speaking with Hamish, and that morning he was telling me a story of a small, Siamese cat he found wandering the streets of Paris that morning! "Now, you must promise to tell no one that I have her" said he, I quickly nodded.

"Oh, I won't tell a soul!" I said excitedly, I had seen several street cats before, and, I've even been attacked by a few; I hoped this cat was different, I didn't fancy another bleeding cheek. Hamish smiled and took up my hand, he slowly led me over to a small cabinet near the oven; he opened this and sitting, sandwiched in the middle of two woolen blankets was a small Siamese kitten with large, round, blue eyes; there were two small bowls before the kitten, one of food and one of water. The kitten shook and meowed at me; it was the most adorable thing I had ever laid eyes upon! "Oh, Hamish" I whispered as the kitten struggled and finally escaped the blankets, waddling over to me and licking my hand.

I lifted up the small kitten and held it as a mother would hold a child, supporting its head and body and nuzzling it close to my chest. The kitten licked my cheek! "She wouldn't stop shaking when I found her, so, I put her in the warmest blankets I could find, near the warmest place I could find." Said he as the kitten allowed me to hug it and play with it's small paws. I had never seen a Siamese kitten in the flesh before, I had only seen them in newspapers.

"She's perfect, Hamish, absolutely perfect" said I as the little kitten's eyes closed. "Have you named her yet?"

"No, not yet" said he, playing with her back paw, I smiled.

"Now is as good a time as ever" said I, Hamish smiled and sat on his bum; I followed suit.

"Hmmm, ah! That's it! We'll name her after Lady Shell! Shell, does that sound good?" Asked he, he tickled under her chin and she grasped his hand with her small paws and began softly biting on his finger; he cried out and started laughing.

"I'll take that as a no" Said he, sitting back, still laughing.

"How about...uh...well...how about Ayesha?" I asked, playing with the kitten's ears.

"Where in the devil did you get the name 'Ayesha' from?" Asked he, I smiled.

"I had a friend named Ayesha when I was young; our mothers were good friends, and, for some reason they moved away. Anyways, she was as sweet as a lamb if you were friends with her, but, if you hurt someone she loved she would bequeath no mercy upon you" I said with a laugh; Hamish nodded.

"I like those people" said he, with such casualty that I laughed even harder. After a pause he continued, save, on a more grave note. "Persephone, I cannot keep her" he added, my heart went limp.

"W-what?" I asked in a whisper.

"Times are getting more rough, Persephone, and, I have not the space for another being...hell...I barely have space for myself" he said, pausing again and smiling "that's why you would do me such a great favor of taking her as your own" he finished; I gasped and hugged him tightly, making sure little Ayesha wasn't flattened in the process.

-* I danced as I held the wrapped up kitten; I giggled and glanced up at the chandelier to see the garland still encased around the chain. They had taken all of the other decorations down...why hadn't they touched that one? I sighed and shook the feeling off, but, as I stepped forwards to go take Ayesha down to see her 'daddy' (as Erik now was to her) the chandelier jingled and something snapped; a great clatter happened above head and it sounded like lights were busting! I glanced up to see the chandelier swinging forcefully from left to right! The only thing holding it to the chain, was the garland.

I gasped and ran, looking back only once to see flames from the candles on the chandelier engulf the garland and cause the chandelier to come hurling down! I jumped and threw Ayesha, causing her to land on one of the stairs that was shielded by a granite wall; I, however, curled up into a ball and hoped for the best!

When I stood up, however, it seemed all my hoping paid off!

For once, I was not injured in any way!

I laughed happily and rushed over to Ayesha, she was meowing until I moment I removed her from the floor and held her close to my heart; she purred happily then. I sighed and turned to find the once magnificent chandelier in thousands of crystalized pieces on the floor; the bulbs were smashed, the gold was bent, and crystal shards created a thin quilt that sat upon the floor. The garland was choking out smoke as several men hurried over with bowls of water and stomped on it. The iron chain of the chandelier was randomly mixed with the shining crystals. I breathed heavily and kissed the small kitten's head; sitting down on the stairs and realizing how tremendously my legs quaked.

Within moments close to sixty persons were standing on the grand staircase, wondering what caused such a calamity. This included the ballet girls, Ayesha, and I; but Erik, was not there. M. Moncharmin sent a page boy up to investigate, and everyone waited in stifled anxiousness whilst we watched the small boy round the corner to where the chandelier's chain was hooked to the ceiling. The boy held up a large pair of pliers and the entire group of onlookers gave a collective gasp. Apparently, there was also a note.

The boy read it aloud:

_ "'Dearest guests, employees, and witnesses,_

_ This was no freak accident, as I'm sure you have found. I left the pliers near the chain on purpose; I'm not that stupid as to leave true evidence behind. One of you, in that crowd, is my target...one of you I have failed to finish off; your mother was first, Persephone, twice she fell at my hand. Now, this damning gift of death is to be passed down from mother to daughter; you have already felt my hand once, your second time is rushing upon you. I urge you to do what makes you feel save, I do love a challenge.'"_

The boy finished, his voice was amplified by the shape of the lobby.

All eyes now locked on me, I sighed and shakingly touched my tummy. This person...this man that was threatening me...he killed my mother! He was my mother's murderer! I sat down and the ballet girls rushed to me, dragging behind them Abelia; they sat with me and comforted me as the page boy handed me the letter and a look of pity.

The next I remember was being in Abelia's room and handing Ayesha over to her. "Take her to Erik and tell him she's ours now. Tell Erik her name and to go to the Daroga's home as quickly as possible" said I, Abelia's brows furrowed.

"Where will you be, then? You _do_ have a death threat over your head, you shouldn't travel alone" said she, I nodded.

"I know! I won't _be_ alone, the Persian is going to take me to his home in Rue de Rivoli where he is going to look after me until Erik _can._ I don't want to take Ayesha because I don't want to risk her...I don't want to risk this little one either...but...I have to...we're attached" said I, smiling to my stomach; Abelia shook her head.

"This isn't logical" said she, I was quite annoyed with all of her questioning.

"_Nothing is anymore_!" I snapped, turning upon my heel and narrowing my eyes at her. "Abelia" I said, wearily "look at were I was, in a tiny flat in Whitechapel with no hope of a future; now, I'm a Primadonna with a fiancé, a baby on the way, and...and a adorable cat and some of the greatest friends in the world; _none of this seems possible_. From laying that low, being the lowest of the low class and raising a million miles up the social ladder in a few months seems...like...a miracle. It's not logical, you're right, but, think of it, is anything _really_ logical anymore?"

Said I, sighing; Abelia remained quiet. I could dive deeper into that subject, if I fancied, but, there was a knock on the door and the Persian entered. "Our carriage is waiting, come Persephone, we haven't the time to lose!" He cried, grasping my wrist; Abelia ran out after us and nodded to me, hurrying in the direction of the stage as my little Ayesha meowed hopelessly in her arms.

-* Another thing I remember is the Persian pointing and saying "there it is, Rue de Rivoli", but, I hadn't the time to look; the horse to our carriage reared up and turned our carriage away, soon after we heard a gunshot! The Persian pushed me down between the seats and took out two pistols, one for me and one for he. "Do you know how to use a pistol?" Asked he, I shook my head and he sighed and gave me a quick tutorial before we were both yanked out of the carriage; I flipped onto my back and squeezed the trigger until it clicked.

I shot three men dead.

Two were severely wounded.

None were on my side of the carriage.

I heard a struggle on the other side of the carriage, but, as I went over to investigate I was stopped by the sight of the driver's dead body; a bullet through his head. His eyes were still open and staring blankly at the sky; his mouth was unhinged, unveiling horrid, yellow teeth and his arms laid next to his head on the cobblestone rode. Still, this sight wasn't as traumatizing compared to M. Devere Leon's body in the 'African Forest' as Erik called it. I stepped over the man's body and hurried over to the other side of the carriage to see the Persian on the ground, battling a man that laid on top of him; a knife close to the Persian's face.

There were no other men to be seen.

I ran over to the driver's dead body and picked up his cane, running back over to the brawl and raising the cane high over my head and whacking the man opposing the Persian in the head with the great, silver wolf's head that adorned the top. The man grunted and the Persian pushed the man off, standing and smiling; before I was knocked in the back of the head with something and fell to the ground. I know not of what transpired with the Persian, hopefully he got away, to his home on Rue de Rivoli or back to the Palais Garnier. But, I, on the other hand was placed in a different carriage and stuck with a needle whilst a dark, thick bag was thrown over my head; the liquid that flowed out of the needle was cool, but I cringed and fought the person with all of my might, that is, until my arms felt like the pasta noodles Erik and I usually order at Italian restaurants. I breathed heavily and fell asleep, waking in that alley I started this tale with.

-* Thankfully, I woke in the alley! None of my clothes seemed to be disturbed, I hadn't acquired any new injuries and nothing appeared new. I could just barely stand and I slowly wobbled to the edge of the alley to find it was dawn! I smiled at the sunrise and wondered if Erik was watching it; a strange thing to wonder at a time like this, I know, but, whatever horrid thing could've happened and/or happened, I didn't want to think about it. The first thing I decided I needed to do was to find out where I was.

No one roamed the streets, I thought. Until I felt a tap on my shoulder, I glanced down to find a small girl who wore a smile; she wore a dirtied, patched up dress, her hair was a mess and pointed every which way, it had obviously not been brushed in days, but her blue eyes sparkled like nothing I had seen before. All of a sudden there was a great pain in my chest and I fell backwards, gasping. I looked to where the little girl had been, but, she had turned into thin air! She was gone!

I rubbed my eyes and shook my head; sighing and grasping my chest only to feel a hand on my foot; I glanced up to see an older woman with dark brown hair that was neatly combed. Her dress was a rusty pink with sewn patches of different colours; her eyes were a glowing amber and the rosy smile that presented itself on her face would turn even the cruelest person that walked the earth kind. But, how could this be?

She had been dead for months.

The woman leaned closer to me and touched my cheek with her wrinkling hand; her nails were short, as they had always been, and she kissed my forehead; stroking my hair and smiling. Her teeth were far from white, but, they weren't as unkempt as the driver of the carriages. "Little Persephone, always getting into trouble, hmm?" The woman asked with a giggle, tears stung my eyes and I reached out to touch her, but, she vanished as soon as my hand was to touch her cheek.

I turned away and pulled my knees up to my chest, laying my chin between them and sighing. All of a sudden, the woman's voice came to me again! "Oh, come now, Persephone, you're not happy to see me again?" Asked she, I turned to see her sitting on two bins, a great smile on her face.

"You're dead" I whispered "I watched you die!" I cried.

"And now I'm watching you" said she softly. She sighed and moved off of the bins, walking with a grace that not even an angel could recreate. She sat down before me and smiled. "You have to fight, Persephone, you have to fight this man...fight him for me...fight him for your happiness...fight him for my little grandbaby in there" said she, patting my stomach and giggling. I smiled and hung my head.

"Where am I?" I asked, looking to her with glassy eyes.

"You're in Montreuil, quite a ways from the center of Paris. But, you're still in France; not many people know English here, they say, so; getting home should be an adventure." Said she, her amber eyes filled with excitement. I chuckled dryly.

"Easy for you to say, you're lying in a grave; you don't need to get anywhere." Said I, she stood and placed her hands on her hips.

"Persephone Josephine Kardine, do not speak to me in such a way." She paused and I looked away from her, back to my knees; she sighed and sat. "I'm going to stay with you, baby, okay? I've always been with you, the drugs are just helping you see that now" said she with a large smile; she did always smile and see the silver lining to everything. There was a pause and I sighed.

"I miss Erik" I whispered, she wrapped her arms around my shoulders and sighed.

"I know, baby, I know. And he misses you, by god, does he miss you! He's got five search parties spanning the length of Paris screaming your name as we speak!" She said, smiling; I laid my head down upon her shoulder and she did not vanish!

The drugs must've taken over my system now.

"Don't listen to Christine or Raoul or William; as nice as their intentions seem, they're still bitter from their incident with Erik. Especially Raoul. Listen to me when I say this, Persephone, as much as William makes you feel pity for him, do not ever, _ever_ stay with him, do you hear me? Don't; it will end in blood." Said she, I nodded and she smiled, patting my head.

"Is it true" I began after a lengthy pause "that you and Firmin...ya know...?" I asked and she laughed; I smiled, how I missed that laugh.

"Yes, dear, I was young and stupid then. I hardly knew what any of it meant." She said, a smile still plastered upon her face, she sighed and looked to me. "I know what happened when you were little, Persephone, _they_ let me see the memory and...I don't believe I've cursed anyone's name so much before!" She said, she turned to me.

"Your suspicions are true, baby, everything you suspect is true.." she whispered; I clenched her hand and she didn't disappear, she nodded her head instead. "I'm sorry" she whispered, her own eyes were glassing over. "I should've heard you...I thought you were off playing with a friend...I heard the scream and I thought...well...I didn't know what I thought. Ayesha's mother said it was nothing...a bird more than likely; but instead of a bird...it was my baby" she said, tears flowing freely down her cheeks; she buried her head into my shoulder and wept, holding me close.

Though she was close, she gave off no warmth, as a human body should. I sighed, and felt liquid falling from my own eyes. "What am I supposed to do?" I whispered after an even longer pause than before; she wiped her eyes and sniffled, sitting up and touching my cheeks.

"Put it in the paper; write a story and send it to the editor. He won't refuse. No one can refuse if you write down what actually happened; use everyone's name, don't leave out a single one. Do you understand?" She asked, I nodded quickly and she kissed my forehead again "it will draw attention and though a scandal may be opened, so be it, you will get the justice you deserve" she whispered; I nodded again and she kissed my cheek; I reached up to touch her hair, but, just as I graced her locks...she vanished.

-* I sighed and stood, gently pushing myself off of the brick wall and starting my journey back to Paris.


	26. Hallucinogens

_Chapter Twenty Six: Hallucinogens _

-* The morning was frozen and the sun was pale. Clouds were already pushing their way before the gelid sunlight and the sparkling white snow that lay up to my ankles became colder and colder with each step; earlier, I found that my shoes were taken, and all the protection I had for my feet were thin, cotton socks.

I thought of calling a cab, but, when I checked, I found that whomever dropped me here had taken my purse; which held around twenty francs. More than enough money to get back to Paris. I stood at a street corner, hugging myself and shaking to keep warm; my dress had been torn in my altercation and so I only kept one shoulder strap whilst the other flopped down to my bosom. My dress was filthy, covered in dirt and muck; my hair was completely unruly and I threw it around my ears, in desperate attempts to keep them warm from the cutting wind that seemed to manifest out of nowhere.

At least it wasn't anything new.

Almost all of my life I lived in poverty...extreme poverty. I had been in worse situations than this.

Then again, back when, I was only thinking of myself. Now I've got a small human to think about.

I sighed and hurried across the street; no one was out at this time, no one save broads. The littered the street corners, wrapped up in shawls and blankets; some were leaving, scurrying back to their homes with the fruits of their labor. As I trudged I felt someone tug on my dress! I turned to find the little girl from the alley standing behind me with a large smile; she wore a dark brown dress that sat limply on the snow and trailed behind her; she always tripped on it. Her blonde hair was tied neatly into a braid that her mother made for her; and her eyes gleamed with curiosity and the hope of excitement.

Though, far away, the world was blurry to her, as she aged the world became so much more clear. I smiled down to the little girl, her smile told me she was only around six; she didn't know what was going to happen to her...no one did. I brought my hand 'round and it went straight through her little skull, however, she didn't disappear, in stead, she gave a confused expression. I sighed and began walking away. "Hey!"

A little voice cried from behind me, I turned and looked to her; she hurried to catch up with me, holding onto my dress when she finally did. "W-why'd you leave me? I haven't done anything wrong" said she, I sighed.

"You are not real, you're not really here, so I couldn't have really left you because you're...you're a hallucination. You'll disappear soon enough" I growled, I sighed and began walking away until I felt a sharp pain in my foot; I cried out and whipped around to find the little girl with her arms crossed, her fingers drumming, her brows furrowed, and her eyes narrowing.

"If I'm_ not real_ then how did you feel that?" Asked she with a sneer; I sighed and continued ambling along; shivering everyone once in a while and pausing as the wind cut through my body, the little girl hurried after me and clung to my dress. "You have to get out of this wind, Persephone! You'll die! More importantly, your baby will die!"

She cried, pulling me into another alley. I pulled myself out of the alley "there are all sorts of ruffians down there, if I go that way I will _surely_ die; this way, walking out here, I may get a cold but it is not _guaranteed_ I will die." Answered I, the girl sighed and nodded, taking up my hand and walking with me; we walked in silence for a long time, my feet sinking into the snow up to my ankles and she not even making a dent.

What drug _was_ I on?

We were silent until we came upon vast fields of glistening snow. The clouds had completely taken over now and the sun was hidden from view; soft, little globs of damp snow fell from the sky. The little girl broke away from me and danced around in the snow; giggling and laughing and making snow angels. I smiled at her but continued walking; I knew, by carriage, it was at least an hour drive, and that was with no traffic. A walk in these conditions was quite close to three hours, I figured.

The wind still bit viciously, causing the snow flurries to fly at a fast pace and sting my face; I turned away as much as I could but a rogue flurry would come out of nowhere and slide up my nose or connect itself to my eyelashes.

I couldn't see for most of my journey, and, at one point I tripped and rolled down a small hill. "Persephone!" The little girl cried, running down to me and helping me sit up; I was covered in snow and, within moments, my shivering was even more severe than it had been. My toes were completely numb and when I touched them, I couldn't feel them!

And, when I attempted to touch my pinkie finger and thumb (as my mother had taught me to do to measure how close to hypothermia you were) I couldn't. If you're wondering on the scale of hypothermia that is...I was dangerously, dangerously close. The little girl's eyes filled with tears at seeing my pitiable state. She grasped my hand and started to drag me...she actually dragged me! "Come on!

Erik's search parties aren't that far away! Come on, help me Persephone!" She screamed, tears coming in floods down her cheeks. I smiled and rolled onto my back, sighing, I grasped the little girl and pulled her close.

"D-Does h-h-he k-know?" I asked struggling to roll the words off of my tongue; the little girl smiled and nodded.

"Abelia told him when she gave him Ayesha; he's got five search parties and the police searching for us, Persephone" said she, I nodded and sighed.

"H-how f-f-f-far a-away is h-he?" I asked, feeling my lips become numb and the tips of my fingers freeze.

"Erik is in Batignolles, but, the search party is on Seine-Saint-Denis Val-de-Marne. We are on the side of Rue Robespierre; we only need go a bit more, Persephone, and then we'll get help. Please, Persephone, get up" she answered in a pleading tone. I sighed and my shivering stopped! But, I couldn't feel my feet and my fingers, the palms of my hands were now cold to the touch as well as my knees and arms.

I was exhausted and my eyelids begged me to close them, but the little girl would scream at me every time I tried. "Please can I just sleep?" I asked, but, the words didn't fall out of my mouth like so; 'sleep' sounded like 'weep', and 'can' like 'fan'.

My words were slurring.

The little girl slapped me, hard. "No! No, you cannot! Because when you fall asleep, you won't wake up!" She yelled with a growl; she sighed and brushed her small hand through her hair; grasping my side and pushing me, rolling me up, onto the road.

I was surprised with this little girl's strength! I groaned and the little girl grasped my hand, pulling me in short bursts. She sighed and sat down as my chest began to tighten and my breathing came slower. "We're...we're here, Persephone...we're safe" she whispered, breathing heavily and sitting; I glanced up to see that she pulled me into a graveyard! And, quite close was a church! The church's lights were aflame and I saw Abelia inside!

She wore a saddened expression as the reverend shook his bald head; she turned and a large group of people followed her; I smiled, but, when I raised my voice to call out, only short squeaks left my vocal chords. And the little girl was encouraging me to cry out, but, I physically couldn't; she shook her head and she screamed a high E; it was a scream, but, at the same time, it was a beautiful scream. A singers scream; it reminded me of the end of 'Think of Me'. They all paused for a moment and my eyes widened, they could hear her? How? She was just an apparition of my past!

A hallucination brought on by drugs!

A pigment of my imagination!

So, how in the world could they hear her?

She cried out for help and Abelia was the first to respond; she rushed over and screamed my name; bringing me into a warm hug and kissing my cheeks; crying and brushing my hair with her fingers, I smiled, and she lifted me up (with the help of others, of course) and carried me into the church where the reverend readied a steaming hot bath to which I was placed in.

After an hour or so I was warm and able to feel all of my body parts again; but, it stunned me that I didn't lose a finger or toe in that process!

Maybe I was just lucky.

Hell if I knew.

Abelia sat by my side when a short man walked over to us and smiled. "Your fiancé has been notified you are safe; he is on his way as fast as the carriages can take him" said he, I smiled and thanked him; sighing as the warm water got even warmer; then, it became even warmer...and warmer...and warmer. And I know, for a fact, that isn't how it works! I glanced down below me but saw no fire; nor anything to act as a heating agent. I sat back, a bit puzzled, but, nevertheless, enjoying the heat.

As minutes passed, the water became hotter and hotter until I could practically feel my skin boiling! I stood and attempted to leave but Abelia shoved me back down into the water and attached something to my hands; I couldn't see what, but, whatever they were, they held me down. She sat beside me again and smiled; grasping the back of my head and sending it straight into the water! I screamed, and, she let me up, I gasped and sputtered, slinging the hair out of my eyes.

-* There was a dark, male chuckle from where Abelia was supposed to be; I opened my eyes and I couldn't see anything for a moment; it was too dark! When my eyes finally adjusted I found I was in a ill-lit, cavernous room, the walls were rock and the floor was dirt, there was someone sat before me in a black robe with the hood pulled over their head; the shadow shielded their face from me. I paused and blinked in confusion, I glanced down to see that I was, indeed, in a large tub of water, but, all of my clothes were on! They were torn and stretched, but, they still hung on my body.

I blinked again and looked to the person sat before me, almost as if I asked them 'what the hell?' With my eyes; the person chuckled and tapped the tub. "Wait...where's Abelia? And the church..." I whispered, the man laughed ever harder.

"Those drugs are powerful things, huh?"


	27. Disguises

_Chapter Twenty Seven: Disguises _

-* "S-So...none of that happened?" I asked slowly, the man sighed.

"I have absolutely no idea what you're going on about, but, if you want 'ta know we found ya behind a grave at a church" the man said and I blinked in confusion...so...it all...happened? But, if it did, where was Abelia? And Erik? And everyone else? Surely Erik alone, in a rage, could take all the 'bad guys' on.

And win.

Another question festered in my brain. "Why did you tell me that?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow suspiciously to him. He laughed and glanced around the room, pulling his hood back a little to reveal mocha skin and melting eyes of jade. "Persian!"

I cried, attempting to pull my arms up; however, I glanced down to find that they were chained to a steel platform on the ground, underneath the tub. The Persian chuckled and placed his index finger to his lips. "Shush! We don't want them knowing you've got a friend here, now, do we? Good, now, any more questions?" Asked he.

"Many" said I, he chuckled. "Wh-what happened?" I asked, the Persian pulled up his hood again and leaned close to me.

"The man knocked you out and we fought; the man ended up knocking me out and put us all in a carriage; I woke up and saw the carriage was stalled and our captor was speaking with another man and they started fighting. I took you out of the carriage and ran to the nearest town; of course, they followed us, but, I hid you and, thankfully, they didn't find you. I ran into a pub and hid behind the bar; I created another identity and joined them in preparation for your finding." Said he with a small smile, moving stray hair out of my eyes.

"H-How long have I been incapacitated?" I asked and the Persian sighed.

"Two weeks"

"Two weeks?!" I cried, sitting up straighter "is my baby okay?" I asked urgently and the Persian calmed me.

"Yes and no; if your asking if it's fine because you've been knocked out for two weeks, yes, your baby is fine. In terms of the drugs..." the Persian trailed off and looked up to me with large, fearful eyes. "They gave you a hallucinogen, and, a very powerful one at that. Your baby will not die, because it is living off of you, however...because it is living off of you it was contaminated with the drugs and so..." the Persian paused and his eyes glassed over. "Has Erik shown you his face before?"

Asked he, I shook my head and he rubbed his face. "Just know that...when you have your child, his or her face will look like Erik's." He added before we heard a door slam; the Persian stood and another man walked in, he carried some type of weapon; I couldn't see what it was, but I saw something gleam in the man's hands. The man that came in wore a black cloak also and the Persian spoke quietly with him; the man pushed past the Persian and I saw the weapon was a sword, a long, sharp, shiny sword. I yanked at my chains and kicked at the tub.

The Persian stood back and watched.

I cried out for him and the man raised the sword up high; I braced and said my goodbyes.

There was a great clatter of iron falling on iron, but, I felt no pain!

I opened my recently clenched eyes to find the man holding the sword to his side and my left hand was free! My mouth dropped and the man cut through the other, the Persian laughed at my bewilderment and helped me out of the tub; I was drenched from head to foot.

The man wielding the sword allowed his hood to fall and revealed a man with mocha skin and deep, chocolate eyes. "Persephone, this is my servant, Darius" said the Persian, I smiled and shook Darius's large hand. I glanced down to my own hands to find dark red rings around my wrists with little specks of the colour crimson. At first, it was a struggle to walk, I was off balance and didn't know why until I saw my tummy; it wasn't extraordinarily big but it was larger than it normally was. I still had quite a few months to wait.

-* In order to get me out the Persian came up with the idea that they would tell anyone who asked that he was moving me to a different room. Darius whispered his apologies as he latched on my handcuffs again; the skin of my wrists was tender and I gasped in pain as the iron weighed down upon them. Darius whispered another apology; I smiled and nodded to him, showing him that I was alright. Darius and I nodded to the Persian who nodded back, Dairus pulled back up his hood and away we began walking; the Persian leading, I in the middle, and Dairus bringing up the tail end.

The hallways were the same as the rooms, ill-lit and cavernous. There were several doors on either side of the hallways, and little windows in each one; most of the rooms were empty, one even had a large table inside with chairs, it seemed quite civilized. No one stopped us in the hallway, surprisingly; the Persian walked to a large, iron door and opened it, nodding to me to walk inside.

I couldn't believe the amount of trust I put into the Persian.

The room was large and, more importantly, empty. Unlike the other rooms, however, this room wasn't cavernous and horribly lit; this room is a room I would compare to a glass box. Wonderful, warming sunlight came in gluttonous floods through the windows and caressed my skin; teasing me out of the shadows. I closed my eyes and stumbled forwards, allowing my feet to bring me into the sun's light; I fell to my knees once I was enveloped in the flaxen radiance and stared up at the blue infinity that stretched above me. The chalky clouds floated idly in the azure; not at all hurrying to tell one another a secret.

Smoldering tears dripped down my face as I remembered Erik...oh, what hell he must've gone through! Two weeks...I had been gone for two weeks...I clenched my eyes shut so as to not grant tear's access to the outside world. I stood and faltered, stumbling forwards but catching myself on one of the windows; the window was scorching hot! I jumped back and fell into Darius's arms, he smiled to me and patted my head as he sat me down in the sunlight. The Persian sat before me and I grasped his hood, yanking him to me.

"Erik, tell me about Erik; what's happened to him and does he know?" I ordered, growling a bit at the end, the Persian smiled and cleared his throat; he wasn't afraid of me, in fact, it made him laugh! I got angry at his laughter, it annoyed me, it echoed through my head; I became so angry I punched his cheek! Dairus jumped and held me back, which was quite easy, seeing as I am only five feet tall and close to one hundred pounds; he, however, was around Erik's height, six feet four inches, but nowhere near Erik's weight (I forgot his weight, though, he's almost skinnier than I am!)

"Oh, no, no, Darius, I understand her hormones are out-of-whack and this is all a bit overwhelming" said the Persian, smiling and rubbing his cheek as Darius let me be. "To be perfectly blatant, Erik is a basket case...a raging, skeletal, genius...basket case." The Persian said with a smile, pausing "your other question, I'm guessing your asking if he knows of the child?" Asked he, I nodded and the Persian smiled "he knows, Abelia told him; thus intensified his transformation into a madman" the Persian smiled and touched my cheek gently "you mean so much to him...now, shouldn't we return you? He's been worried sick for two weeks; I think the man deserves a break!"

-* the Persian walked to a window and slid it open, smiling to me and helping me out, onto the street. The Persian came out next, but, just as Darius was about to leave we heard shouting and turned back to see men banging on the door; attempting to break it down! Darius slammed the window shut and yelled for us to leave; the Persian hesitated and Darius nodded sadly to him, the Persian grasped my hand and ran with me until we saw a cab.

However, the chase wasn't over when we were in the cab; a cab followed behind us, but, something struck me as odd about it. It had the seal of the Palais Garnier on the back! I told this to the Persian who confirmed it and turned back to me, shaking his head. "We're still not stopping, we're not stopping until we're safe again" said he; but, the carriage behind us did nothing malicious. It sauntered behind us, observing us.

It was completely strange.

We arrived at the Palais Garnier in an hour, by the Persian's pocket watch. "Where were we?" I asked as we arrived to the grand opera house.

"We were in Montreuil, now we are in Paris" said he with a grin; I paused and the oxygen was embezzled from my lungs. Montreuil? B-but, how can this be? How could've my hallucination been correct? As I sat in the carriage, I thought back to earlier conversations, especially to the once containing the answer if Erik knew he was a father or not and I realized, my hallucination had been correct about that too.

Both the Persian and my hallucination said that Abelia told him, both my hallucination and the Persian said we had been in Montreuil and this got me thinking...were they really hallucinations at all?

I shook my head quickly, and sighed, I didn't need to think that deeply into things; my brain pounded the inside of my skull and I winced in pain. The Persian hurried out of the carriage and lifted me out, running through the stable entrance with me and hurrying down to the fifth cellar as fast as he could. I bounced in his arms as he hopped down the stairs.

-* He didn't waste any time, he put me in the gondola and yanked up the ore, paddling as fast as he could. Organ music brewed in the air around us, it was melancholy and loud, the Persian sighed. "That is Erik's way of letting out his emotions, if he's happy he'll play something jovial; when he's depressed, he plays things such as this" he said softly; my heart cracked at the thought of my Erik hunched over the organ, acquiescing his abasement to flow out through his fingertips.

Erik didn't stop playing the organ, like he normally did, when we hit the shore. Maybe he didn't hear us. The Persian tied up the gondola and took up my hand, helping me out and hurrying up the stairs. "Stay here" he whispered to me, I nodded and the Persian stepped into my home, leaving the door open. "Erik!

Erik! Come now, come here! I have the best news you'll ever hear!" The Persian cried with a large grin, I smiled and the organ music cancelled abruptly; there was the tale tell scratching of wood-on-wood, telling me Erik stood. Next there were slow, clunckish footsteps and there came a yawn.

"What _is it_ you gigantic booby? Can't you _detect_ that I am quite occupied? I thought you were a Daroga and you could sense those types of things" Erik hissed. The Persian sighed.

"I guess you don't want the surprise then...alright...Persephone ge-" is all the Daroga could get out before Erik ripped him out of the way and turned, setting his eyes upon me and tackling me. He buried his head in the angle of my neck and was breathing heavily, whispering the words:

"Thank you" over and over and kissing my cheeks and neck. He ran his fingers through my hair and hugged me; a few moments into the hug I felt something wet on my neck where Erik's face was.

He was sobbing!

My angel was sobbing!

I wrapped my arms around him and played with the curl of his hair; he made no noise as his tears fell and landed on my shoulder, he sniffled and sighed but refused to move. I smiled and kissed the top of his head; the Persian leaned against the doorframe, smoking a cigarette and smiling. When Erik pushed himself up he instantly took me up in his arms and brought me into our living area where he laid down and laid me on top of him; he stroked my hair with his left hand, and, his right rested on my stomach.

-* I told Erik everything, the hallucinations, the alley, the walk, the town, the graveyard; everything. Erik sighed and looked up to me. His eyes were half closed, and the half I could see was bloodshot; his white, cotton shirt was stained reds and browns and torn in several places. One of his trouser legs was rolled up to his knee whilst the other covered down to his ankle. He wore no shoes and his hair was utterly confused! It poked out every which way and he ran his fingers through it, smoothing it back and smiling languidly; he was _so_ handsome.

"The baby" he whispered, looking down to my stomach dismally, he held me close and kissed my cheek quickly. "How much hallucinogens do you suspect they injected in her?" Asked Erik frantically. The Persian sighed and smiled sadly.

"Enough" said the Persian, clasping onto Erik's shoulder. "The baby...will be affected" added the Persian, Erik's grip of me tightened and he lifted me from the couch; nodding to the Persian who said his goodbye to me and left, the rest of that evening between Erik and I was spent arguing who missed the other the most.

Then, Erik turned to me with a grave expression and sighed. "My little Persephone, you must see now what you are marrying...and what you will give birth to" he whispered and slowly, he reached for his mask; I leaned forwards and grasped his collar, smashing our lips together and pulling him down, running my fingers through his hair and ripping his mask off; however, I didn't open my eyes, I wouldn't until he told me to.


	28. Last Ditch Effort?

_Chapter Twenty Eight: Last Ditch Effort? _

-Eight Months Later-

-* I laid on Erik's chest as we sat beneath a great tree in Jardin des Tuileries; the sun was warm but a slight breeze blew through Paris and cooled us off, quite odd for the month of July! A few clouds floated uncaringly in the sky as the side of our checkered picnic blanket was blown up from the side, by the wind. I smiled and sighed and Erik patted my substantially grown stomach; the last eight months he mostly hid me down in the fifth cellar, for fear of me being taken away again. I didn't blame him, I didn't like having a half muddled brain and being taken miles away from him; at the mercy of a murderer.

This was one of the first times we had gotten out of the Palais Garnier and into the world of Paris, in the past eight months.

As I look back in my journal I realized I left off at quite an intense part; the taking off of Erik's mask! Well, whomever is reading this, I mustn't lie to you, so, here is the truth, I didn't see it. I never opened my eyes. Here is how the rest of that scene unfolded:

-*"W-Why aren't you looking at me?" Erik asked breathlessly, as I had stolen all of his breath with the surprise kiss.

"I'm not going to look at you without your permission" I said softly, he sniffled and kissed all over my face; he cleared his throat and he sighed.

"Okay, open your eyes, angel" said he, and so, I did; I opened my eyes and he was turned away from me with his mask in hand. He turned half way to me and jumped from the bed "no! I cannot!" He yelled, hurriedly replacing his mask upon his face. "I cannot face you..." he whispered, turning to me pitifully, his bottom lip quivering. "I can't let something so beautiful become so tainted at seeing such a monstrosity as I" he whispered, gently touching my cheek. I kissed his hand and layed my head against it.

"You are no monster; there is no hurry to show me your face...you don't have to at all. It's completely your decision, but, the Daroga said...he said that whatever you look like...the baby will too" I said and Erik fell to his knees, his mouth gaping and tears welling in his eyes; he fell to his bum and sat against the bed, covering his head in his hands. I slid off of the bed and sat by his side, hugging him and kissing his hands.

"This is why I was so apprehensive about children, Persephone...I...I passed on my deformity-"

"No, no, you didn't. The Daroga said it would be because of the hallucinogens, apparently" I said with a pause and a smile "skin deformities _do not_ pass on from parent to child...it wasn't you, Erik, it wasn't you" I assured, smiling and hugging him again; he kissed the top of my head and sighed, holding me close.

-* Now, I gasped as I felt a slight kick inside of my stomach. "Did you feel that?" I asked Erik excitedly, he smiled and nodded, I giggled and laid back again; smiling from ear to ear.

Over the past eight months Abelia was promoted to lead soprano and Jocelynn was the stand-in Primadonna. Jocelynn was good, not great, but good; I couldn't wait until I took back over the role.

Abelia surprised everyone with being perfectly well in the role of lead soprano, she outshined Jocelynn on stage! Erik and I would often watch the show from box five, along with little Ayesha.

Ayesha had taken a liking to Erik and followed him wherever he went! It was so adorable, to me, to see him striding into the living room or bedroom, a songbook at his side, and little Ayesha leaping after him; grabbing at his heels with her tiny paws. Sometimes she would be successful and latch onto his leg, climbing up his trousers and, with his help, making it up to his shoulder and sitting happily. Sometimes she would look to me and meow, I would sware I saw a smile upon her miniature mouth! Other times, when she wasn't successful, she would fall to the ground and I would giggle; Erik would usually turn around and lift her off of the ground with one hand and place her on his shoulder.

She would even nuzzle her way between Erik and I at night! One night, it ended catastrophically for the small kitten. Erik, during the night, had taken to reaching over and patting me, to be sure I was there; sometimes afterwards he would pull me to him, and, sometimes not. One night, Ayesha laid between us and I felt Erik's hand on my arm; he yawned and pulled me over, that's when we both heard a screech of pure horror and Erik fell off of the bed! I gasped and lit a gas lamp to find Ayesha licking her front, right paw.

Erik groggily sat up from the floor and groaned, standing and looking to Ayesha who limped over to him, only to fall due to imbalance and the plushy material of the mattress. Erik squinted his eyes at her and she meowed pitifully. "Erik...she's hurt" I whispered, he glanced up to me with a smile and winked.

"Oh? Little Ayesha's hurt? Perhaps we should take her to the vet, because her paw is hurt after all" said he, the kitten meowed and placed her paw back down on the mattress, walking around, perfectly fine. I laughed and Erik grinned, clambering back into bed and lifting Ayesha up, onto his pillow. And the night proceeded smoothly.

-* Abelia often came to visit me in the fifth cellar, apparently, we had a new dance mentor; Erik, however, would stay our vocal mentor. The new dance mentor was sweet; she was very limber and was quite understanding and companionate, she knew of me, and she even sent Abelia down with a basket of sweets and a congratulatory letter! Her name was Mademoiselle Jeanine Delmon; she was a native of Paris, Erik handpicked her, and gave her several words of warning. Abelia overheard what he warned her about, she smiled and told me, imitating Erik:

"And, before you start your new position here at the Palais Garnier, there are a few things I must warn you of" Abelia began, I giggled at her impersonation. "Don't you_ ever_ set a harmful finger upon my Persephone or I will see to it that you have the most excruciatingly long winded death there ever will be; do not verbally attack her in any way, and do not attempt to follow her home, if you do any of the before mentioned I will know. Persephone is a good, sweet girl and tells me all about her day, I _will_ know, mademoiselle. Are we clear?" Abelia paused and smiled, saying in a higher pitched voice:

"Crystal"

We both burst into fits of laughter, her impersonations were hilarious! I forgot Erik was sitting a few rooms away, so, when he heard our laughter, he poked his head inside and raised his eyebrows; causing us to laugh even harder. He smiled and rolled his eyes playfully, walking back into whatever room he sat in.

-* I was reading back through my journal a few days ago and found that _'Don Juan Triumphant'_ hadn't been preformed! I even remembered Erik saying for it to be preformed in no more than two weeks time, and that was, quite the while ago. I approached Erik about it and he smiled. "I must wait one more month, angel, for; the star of my show carries my child!" He cried, kissing my cheek, I smiled and hugged him; he was a god send.

And, I made sure he knew it.

-* I smiled as a quiet breeze blew and rustled the leaves above us, causing a few to fall and land on Erik's head. I smiled to him and he looked away from me; he was staring intently, almost sadly, at something. I followed his eyes to find the woman with the golden hair and oceanic eyes sitting with the man with a brown mustache and dirty blonde hair; Christine and Raoul. They didn't come towards us, no, they sat upon a bench Erik and I previously sat upon, and they watched the lake sparkle as the sun peeked at its reflection on the surface of it. I glanced back to Erik to see his face had become enveloped with the veil of hopelessness, and, in his eyes, in the stead of his usual amusement, depression shown, dulling his eyes.

He gave a forlorn sigh and closed his eyes. I had to turn away from him, I knew he would always love Christine, and, it hurt me, oh! Did it asphyxiate me to be reminded of that ghastly fact.

I would always be second.

Because Christine was his first.

I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes, wishing to suppress lamentments that had once laid dormant in my throat; they were now crawling up my throat, digging their claws into my esophagus, torching their way up slowly. I gave a quiet sigh, why couldn't they just leave us alone? I understand that they were minding their own business, but, for two couples to come to the same park, Jardin des Tuileries, one of the biggest parks in France of all places, and find each other? It was beyond coincidence in my mind. I glanced back to the couple to see Raoul leave, he literally left Christine on the bench, all alone!

Something was wrong, I felt it.

Up I looked to Erik to see that same heartbroken expression painted upon his face; he was staring at Christine somberly. I shook my head slightly and stood; Erik snapped to attention and stared at me questioningly. I sniffled "go" I said, harsher than intended. "Go, go over to her, I know you want to; just...go." I said, the sobs still glued in my throat.

"Oh, Perseph-"

"No! Go over to her, speak with her, and get whatever that is going on finished. Because you cannot act like this before your child, that is imminently coming, arrives in a month" I hissed, Erik blinked in surprise, I had never used that commanding tone with him before; he nodded and smiled, kissing my head and slowly walking away, his hands locking behind his back. He turned back a few times as he walked to Mademoiselle Viscountess Christine de Chagny. I had no idea of what was said, but, Erik sat with her on the bench, and they spoke in a civilized manner; I pulled my knees as close to me as I could without harming the baby and sighed, I wanted to go home.

The sun didn't sparkle as brightly and the sky didn't seem as blue, or, maybe I'm being overly-dramatic. Knowing me, it's more than likely the latter. I closed my eyes and laid my head against the tree, sighing; then, I heard whistling coming from_ behind_ the tree! It was to the tune of _'Danse Macabre'_ by Camel Saint-Seans; it was one of my favorite songs. The whistling stopped right in the midst of the song, and all was quiet for a moment, save, children's laughter and people's chatter; I gave a small smile and finished the song.

There was the sound of feet crunching on dry grass and William sat beside me, dusting off his knees. We were silent for a few moments and William sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the tree. "So, uh, how's being pregnant?" Asked he, I sat against the tree and smiled.

"Moderate" I answered, it was fun knowing that I would be a mother, but, the symptoms that came with pregnancy was hell in a hand basket. The bloating, the morning vomiting, the constant urge to urinate, not being able to see my ankles, the bizarre cravings for bizarre dishes, the nauseation at things I used to love (i.e. coffee, cake, etc.), did I mention the back pains? Oh, it was hell, but, it was a wonderful, anticipated hell.

I turned away from Christine and Erik for but a moment and heard William gasp. "Wha-" I almost asked, but, when I saw what was going on, the words dissipated from my mouth.

They were_ kissing_.

Christine held Erik's collar as their lips were cemented together. Christine finally let Erik go and gave a smile; she turned to me and gave a little wave; standing and lifting her purse from the bench, winking to Erik and leaving the way Raoul left.

Erik sat for the longest time, either attempting to wrap his head around what happened or thinking up an explanation to me. But I didn't need to be Sherlock Holmes to see what was going on.

William leaned closer to me and gave a small, asinine smile. "If it's any-"

"It's not!" I growled, standing and stomping away.

"But, Persephone, listen, this wasn't-"

"Yes, it was!" I yelled, pausing to see Erik hurrying over to the tree and gathering up our blanket.

"Persephone, please, I beg of you; just listen. I didn't do anything, it was all Raoul's idea; h-he wanted to give Erik the final blow and try and steal you away from him. Persephone, I love you...I love you" he said. I turned away from him and clambered into the carriage, smacking away Erik's hand of aid.

-* Erik had been quiet the entire carriage ride, he learnt not to speak to me when I was fuming.

As if I wasn't already in a _wonderful_ mood, when we arrived back at the Palais Garnier and I got word that someone hung themselves! Apparently the person left several notes.

And one was personally for me.


	29. I Love You

**_(A/N)_**

**_Hey guys! Sorry if I don't update as often now, the rehearsals are running four days a week and it's quite hard to write; especially since I'm getting home at six o'clock at night and have to take a shower, make my lunch, do homework and go to bed in a timely manner. So, if I don't get chapters out as fast, pray, don't become frustrated with me; it would make my life so much easier. Enjoy this chapter, au revoir! _**

_Chapter Twenty Nine: I Love You_

-* My foul mood hadn't dwindled much since we returned from the park, so, it wasn't any surprise to me when the page boy held out the letter, how I snatched it from his hand and cursed Christine Daae under my breath. Formerly, she was my idol. Her voice was so clear and true; she was so honest and kind; hell, she even acted as a mother to me, if even a bit. But then, when I saw her lips stitched to Erik's, I saw what a snake was hidden beneath her facade of honesty and caring.

What really lit my anger aflame was her utter lack of respect for my choices.

Perhaps she was ignorant, but she wasn't totally oblivious. Several times before had I said to her how much I loved Erik; but, she didn't care.

Just because she didn't love Erik, doesn't mean that I don't love him.

It means she wasn't the right one for him, it means that she needs to go to Raoul and leave us alone.

Oh, I am terribly sorry for the rant; but, when I saw that little wave Christine gave to me, and the wink she gave to Erik, I felt I would surely explode! And, I can't vent to Erik; not right now. I understood that he was going through terrible emotions as of those moments and to vent about my distaste to the Viscontess would surely send him over the edge.

Erik and I were silently traveling down to the fifth cellar; I walked before him, holding the lanturn tight in my grasp, and the note in the other. In these moments, I made a comparison between Erik and William (and Christine and myself).

We were in different circumstances, but, the same situation; just with a few more obsticles thrown into the mix.

William is what I compared to the past Erik.

Broken.

Beneath William's mask of confidence there sits a broken man; desperate for the tiniest crumb of affection. In the past, Erik was that way; save, in the stead of confidence, there was anger. William and Erik aren't_ that_ different.

Christine and I were and are thrown into difficult situations. Christine loved Roaul, beyond a doubt; like I love Erik. However, with Christine, there was always that nagging doubt of love to Erik; with me, it is the nagging doubt of William. There are few differences in our situations, for example, I am pregnant and, with Christine, Erik faded away from her.

William, however, is a bit more stubborn (which, I didn't believe was achieveable).

Erik and I were in the second cellar and he cleared his throat; pausing my thoughts. Then, he spoke: "Persephone..?" Asked he, I grunted, the odious feelings were diminishing, however, they clung fast to me. Erik sighed and he gently grasped my shoulder, turning me towards him and pulling me into a hug. "...I love you" he said in a whisper; I closed my eyes and sighed, enfolding my arms around him and enjoying the little warmth his body gave off.

"I love you too" I said at length, begining again. "What did Christine say?"

"Nothing out-of-the-ordinary; she spoke of William plenty. General small talk" he answered, but, there was something in his voice that told me he was hiding something. I sighed, and heard footsteps approching behind us; fast footsteps.

"Mademoislle! Wait!" Someone shouted, it was the page boy, he was huffing and puffing by the time he reached Erik and I; Erik took him by the arm and sat him down on the cellar floor. "You...you need to read that...right...right now" the page boy added, pointing weakly to the letter in my grasp. I glanced frantically to Erik who nodded; I tore open the envelope and yanked out the letter to see the words_ 'Managers office, now'_.

My heart plumetted.

Do you ever gain that neausiating feeling that makes your stomach bubble with fear? Do you feel your legs shiver and the hairs on your arms stand on end because you know of the revolting end that is inevitably coming? Do you ever feel your throat burn because of the afore mentioned stomach bubbles? I do. And, in this situation, I did.

It's that fear that fills you with dread and not so much anxiousness. This dread is caused not because something pops out at you, or the suspence is enough to cut with a butter knife, but it is because you _know_ what is coming and you _know_ you will have to face whatever it is soon.

I ran to Erik and buried myself beneath his arms; for, that was where I felt the most safe. Erik glanced at the note, but, did not feel the begruding dread that sat like a bolder in my gut. He just nodded and grasped my hand, leading me up the stairs, to the manager's office.

-* When we reached the surface nothing seemed to be the bother, to anyone! Everyone was merry and spoke lively, smiles spread across their faces and laughter humming from their vocal chords.

Something was most definately wrong.

Erik lead me into M. Firmin and M. Moncharmin's office and, hanging from the rafters was my uncle's body.

Before I could scream in horror I was violently shoved into the room; only standing because Erik caught me before my body could flop to the floor.

There were a few men in black evening suits standing about the room; M. Moncharmin was no where to be seen. My eyes traveled from the men, back to my uncle. The rope that acted as his bane was bright red, as were the colour of his lips. His skin was pale and his face had the slightest touch of crimson; his arms and legs dangled uselessly. But, there was something about this scene that urked me, something that wasn't correct.

It was Firmin's face. I had seen death before, many times, especially so living in Whitechapel; anyways, Firmin's face wasn't the correct colour, it didn't have bruising and his eyes weren't glazed over, as a corpse's eyes usually are. Just then, Firmin's 'corpse' smiled! He was still alive! Firmin turned to me and grinned, a man walked to him and helped him down from the noose. "I bet you're wondering how I did that" said he, drinking a glass of scotch; I nodded.

"A harness" Erik interrupted. "You used a harness connected to the rope to keep you alive; it was just 'round your neck for show" Erik added, Firmin applauded him.

"Very good, very good! Monsieur Erik! Quite ingenious, is it not?" Asked Firmin with a drunken chuckle.

"What do you want, Firmin?" I growled, Firmin smiled.

"Ah, to tell you a few things, mademoiselle." Said he, sitting at his desk and sighing "you know, I intended to write you a letter about it, but, I came up with a different plan." he paused and sighed. "Persephone, I'm going to tell you what really happened on your eighth birthday" said he, leaning forwards and downing another glass. Erik and I sat before him, in green chairs. "You and your mother went to the park, as you know, and you sang. You were applauded and you got your face painted like a kitten; and you were promised a kitten that your mother was going to give to you that night.

How I know all of this? I was there. Persephone, as perverse and disgusting as you think this may sound...I loved your mother; I couldn't lose her after that night when we were young. So, more often than not, I followed your mother around, especially when she was pregnant with you. I was there for both of your birthdays, and I was there for your eighth. I had been drinking...as I am now...Persephone, I have a condition...a strange condition that only allows me to remember certain things when I drink.

I forgot what it's called, though. Anyways, I was drunk and I confronted your mother when you went in the woods to play" Firmin said, his lips becoming chapped, he licked them a few times and drank some more. "She smiled, like she always did, and we spoke for a while; she pointed to where you were and told me to go wish you happy birthday, she said you were playing with a new friend." Firmin paused and his eyes became glassy, in consequence, he drank another glass. "I wandered into the woods, barely able to stand I was so drunk, and I saw you, no one else was around, though.

You were so vulnerable...and I was so drunk...I...I touched you" he whispered and I felt all of the blood drain from my cheeks. My entire body went limp and I shook my head; Firmin drank the entire bottle of scotch and turned away from us.

"Y-You raped me?" I asked quietly; I knew what happened, I just...I couldn't believe my ears! There was a light 'click' and Firmin sighed.

"Yes, Persephone...yes, I did" he whispered; Erik stood, he was angry, very, very angry. Now, Firmin turned upon us; holding a loaded gun. "Persephone, this won't make sense to you, not yet, not until I explain it" said Firmin, tears falling down his cheeks. "Persephone, I killed your mother, I killed Claire. I killed her because...she didn't love me...she loved your father; but, he's dead now too. I made sure of it" he said; my heart was in my throat and I felt so much at once, it was impossible to explain my thoughts!

"You've gone bloody mental" I whispered; Firmin smiled sadly.

"Persephone, little Persephone, I love you...but...the guilt of touching you is too great, my child." Firmin said, pulling the hammer back on the gun.

"Firmin, please, think about what you're doing...Persephone's pregnant. You wouldn't want to kill a baby, would you?" Erik growled; Erik looked as if he were ready to jump across the desk and strangle my uncle to death. Firmin wept for a moment and all was silent. He looked up to the ceiling with tears flooding from his eyes.

"Forgive me, Claire" he whispered, and pulled the trigger.

-* Time slowed and, suddenly, Erik was leaned over me; carrying me away. I glanced down to see a Erik's white shirt was pressed over the left side of my stomach; the shirt was being soiled bright crimson extremely quickly. I smiled to Erik who was telling me that I would be fine; he kept calling me 'his girl' and 'baby' and 'his angel of music'. I smiled to him and kissed his masked cheek. "I love you, Erik, I love you" I whispered, closing my eyes and whispering how much I loved him over and over.


	30. Pierre

_Chapter Thirty: Pierre_

-* The world around me was foggy and muddled, and air was being pumped into my mouth; I heard voices come from around me, but, I had no idea of what they were saying.

My entire body was numb and I had not the strength, nor the willpower, to open my eyes; I was uncommonly fatigued. Then, there was a sharp pain on the left side of my body, shattering the numbness I once enjoyed. I grunted and my arm jolted; the voices hushed for a moment and then began again in an uproar. There was yelling and shrieking, I heard gasping and then silence and heavy breathing; there was once voice, a voice which I was completely accustomed to, it was soft, yet at the same time, demanded respect and authority.

Erik.

He spoke for a while, and then, there was silence. There was the sound of clinking, metallic objects and I felt pressure on my left side; then I felt a large, cold hand slip into my own, I gave a smile and weakly brought my fingers to his, for, I knew it was Erik who held my hand.

There was a sharp pain in my right arm and I gasped quietly, only, a few moments later, to fall back into the pit that was my subconscious.

-* I woke again, this time I was gifted with the ability to open my eyes; and, when I did, I found that Erik was leaning back in a chair beside me, his left hand resting in mine whilst his right supported his head. His eyes were closed and he breathed slowly, snoring softly. I smiled, I loved his snore. It was like an adorable, little, kitchen mixer.

I blinked and gave a yawn, glancing around the room. The walls were baby blue and the floors were white and tiled; there was a little window with white blinds pulled before it, but, no light came in from the window.

I figured it was night.

I laid in a soft bed with white sheets; I spotted several blood droplets at random places on the sheets. I was at a hospital. Up from my sheets I glanced to see a man hanging by his neck from the rafters; I paused and started for a moment, the man's face was a deep, deep vermillion with a mauve colour lining where the noose held his neck. His body was completely limp and his eyes were glazed over, as a corpse's should; this man was dead, I was sure of it. But, why was he hanging in my room?

More importantly, what animosity had he shown Erik to get himself killed in such a way as strangulation?

I accidently moved my hand and Erik jolted awake; quickly scanning the room. His eyes slowly turned back to me and he gave a drained smile, leaning forwards and gently brushing his fingers through my hair; kissing my forehead. "How did you sleep, angel? Any discomfort?" Asked he, I shook my head and he smiled again; I pointed towards the man and gave Erik a frank look, to this he laughed.

"Oh, I had to assert my authority of being your angel of music; sadly, he and I didn't see it _eye to eye, _as it were" Erik explained, I giggled.

"What was the quarrel about?" I asked, my voice was scratchy and gruff; Erik held my hand once again.

"The damnable man refused to allow me access to you and so...I got angry" he clarified; I nodded and he scooted closer, causing the chair to scream as he drug it across the tile. There was a slight bump on my stomach and then I remembered:

The baby!

"What of our child?" I asked Erik urgently; Erik smiled sadly to me and my heart shattered. "It's dead...isn't it?" I asked, Erik chuckled.

"No, dear. But, it will damage the baby in some way; the doctors and I are sure of it. Seeing as the baby will already be...awry...the doctors have given us a choice." Said he, my eyes glassed over; I knew what that choice was almost instantly. "You could give birth to it and we could raise it to the best of our ability...or..." Erik paused and a tear ran down my cheek; still, he continued "or the doctors can kill it and we can try again" he finished.

I tightly held his hand as he whispered comforting words to me and held me close; I didn't want to kill the baby, of course I didn't! But, maybe it would be the best thing for it. Then again, I had gone _eight months_ with this little human resting in my stomach, depending upon me for life, I couldn't just kill it! I loved it, it was mine, no matter how disfigured or abhorrent it's face or body! It was mine, and I was determined to love it like any normal child.

Erik leaned forwards and I clung to him, burying my face into his chest; I cried. The mere _thought_ of harming my tiny human brought me to the brink of my sanity. "No" I whispered, gulping down large sobs.

"What, lovely?" Asked he, resting his head upon my own.

"No" I said louder, lifting my head and staring up at him; I shook my head. "I won't kill it"

"Angel-"

"No! It's our child, Erik, I will _not_ get rid of it! I love it...no matter how it looks...I love it..." I said, glancing down to my stomach and then back up to the child's father. He sighed and touched my cheek.

"Where were you all of my life?" He asked, I smiled.

"In Whitechapel, more than likely" said I, he chuckled.

"We'll keep it, but I can't promise that it will live long" said he, I nodded and hugged him tightly.

-* The bullet, apparently, just barely missed the baby's embryotic sac; by a millimeter.

The doctors claimed it was a miracle.

The bullet didn't do any serious damage to me, thank goodness, and I was released after staying four days under their and Erik's care (mostly Erik).

A few weeks after this, on the night of August tenth, Erik and I were laying in bed, Ayesha resting on his shoulder; he was reading to me_ 'Dracula' _by Bram Stoker when I felt something warm between my legs; it didn't feel like a liquid, and, Erik didn't feel it, for, he continued reading. I quickly glanced down and was overwhelmed at the sight of a liquid! I paused. "E-Erik?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, my lovely?" Asked he with a yawn.

"I think my water's broken" I said, peeking underneath the sheets again; Erik jumped off of the bed, nearly throwing Ayesha off, and yanked away the covers, sure enough, a strange liquid lay seeping into the mattress between my legs. Erik ran around the bed and lifted me off, running out of our home, not even stopping to slip on his shoes! Ayesha clung to his shoulder. He placed me into the gondola and rowed as fast as he could; once and only once the gondola was stuck, but, he jumped into the lake and pushed with all of his might, getting us out quite quickly.

Again, we arrived at the hospital and the doctors rushed to me; hurriedly taking me to a room where Erik sat beside me, watch in hand, ready to measure my contractions (whenever they started). He was extremely anxious and his foot tapped the floor incessantly; I smiled happily to him and kissed his hand, he had no reason to be nervous.

-* Three hours later I began to have pains and cramps in my stomach; I was informed these were contractions. In the beginning they came upon me like a flood, and then receded, then, they came again! But, slowly and surely, they faded. However, after a few times of this, they did not leave. I dug my nails into the bed in pain and gritted my teeth; feeling them grind and scrape against one another.

I cried out and squeezed Erik's hand hard; "she's ready!" He yelled, apparently, he called doctors into the room whilst I was too busy dealing with the pain of several contractions. Doctors assembled around me, and now, it was my turn to be nervous. Still, Erik sat beside me, whispering sweet words of tranquility and patting my hands. The doctors made him count to ten as I pushed; Erik stood when the doctor's said they saw the baby, and, almost immediately, Erik's entire face turned a deadly, white pastel colour.

His mouth fell open and his eyes grew large; his hand went limp and down he fell!

He fainted!

Erik fainted!

No one rushed over to him, not yet, not until the baby was born.

_-7 years later-_

-* I sighed as I ran from the stage; there Erik awaited me. "Absolutely stunning, my love, stunning! Right, Pierre? Wasn't mummy dazzlingly superb?" Asked he, looking to the child he held in his right arm.

"Yes! Mummy is always exquisitely glorious" said little Pierre; I smiled and sighed, attempting to calm from the antics on stage.

I giggled and kissed Erik's cheek, next, leaning down and kissing my son's chubby cheek; he had his father's eyes. A shining black during the day, and a marvelous, dark daffodil colour during the night. I turned back to Erik and he laid his arm around my shoulders, sighing and bringing me back down to our home which was littered with noise making toys and baby gates; Erik, when Pierre was expected, had gone through the entire home and baby proofed it! Placing a baby gate before the door to the torture chamber, the front door, and the food storage area; he also constructed Pierre a crib which I painted powder blue, and, a mobile of the moon and several luminous stars. But, what Pierre loved the most, was not a toy for him, it was my monkey music box Erik bought for me from the antiquity store all those years ago.

Pierre also loved to hear his mummy and daddy harmonize.

You are, no doubt, a bit confused. Well, dear reader, it was a grievous time that I dare not speak of before Erik, or even think of. You see, seven years formerly, when I gave birth to our first child, Erik fainted and the doctors cut the cord and rushed off with the baby; I wasn't even allowed to hold it. They awoke Erik and hours later a nurse came in bearing a small body in a pink blanket; she smiled sorrowfully, with eyes of glass, and gave me the small blanket; Erik sat beside me, now, however, he stood and glanced over my shoulder. The nurse gave a squeak, as if she were about to speak, but then her hand rushed to her mouth and tears came in torrents down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, turning and running out of the room, closing the door behind her. I glanced to Erik who gently moved fabric from before the child's face...and...there it was.

As we expected.

It was disfigured beyond identification; the baby's entire face looked as if it had been burnt, the baby's cheek bones poked out too much and the skin looked like it would snap any second. Yet, the child's eyes were closed and a little crop of dark brown, almost black, hair sat upon its head. Its breathing was quick and loud, and, I didn't spot a nose on the child; still, it slept peacefully. All I could do as I stared at the child was cry; of course Erik and I would raise it with the best love we could offer, but, the child was doomed to be ridiculed for the rest of its life; like its father was. Erik held my arms tightly and sighed, staring at the child, then, he spoke:

"These feelings must have been what my mother felt when she saw me" said he, giving a crestfallen, weak smile to me. I buried my head into the angle of his neck and wept for around an hour before calming and holding the baby close; I would love it like I would love a normal child. I smiled, I was even warming up to its loud breathing, it was cute; just like its father's snores. For hours I cuddled the child, it came to the point where Erik laid in the bed with me just to play with his child's hair!

Soon after I fell asleep on Erik's chest and Erik, himself, fell asleep against a pillow!

I don't believe I had ever felt that much heartache as when I woke.

I smiled to Erik who still napped beside me. I turned slowly to our child (which, we found was a girl) to find that her little chest was no longer rising and falling...and the loud breathing that once contented me did not ring my ears. I sat up, waking Erik, and gently shook the child. "Martha? Martha are you awake?"

I asked, calling her the agreed name. When the child's eyes did not rise and her breathing did not continue my worry rose. "Martha?" I asked louder, poking her small head; I began to hyperventilate. "Martha?!"

I screamed, Erik now sat bolt upright behind me; I violently shook the child and Erik took the small body from me, standing from the bed and walking towards the door. Erik pressed his index finger against the child's neck, then, in desperation, against her small wrist. He paused afterwards and shook his head, closing his eyes and kissing the child's forehead. "She's gone, Persephone" he whispered as he blinked away tears.

"No.." I whispered feeling my heart smash against the floor; Erik hurried back to the bed and wrapped his arms around me, gently giving me back Martha.

-* Have you ever cried for a consecutive week and are forced to hide your mourning afterwards? I was. M. Moncharmin gave me a week to mourn, and, afterwards I was forced to take back up my role as Primadonna.

I know you all are still dumbfounded as to M. Firmin's fate, but, it is actually quite simple.

He committed suicide.

Apparently, he was so sure he killed me that he shot himself straight through the head with the remaining bullet.

He was buried next to my mother.

As for the fate of my biological father, no one knows; he is either dead or hiding, Firmin said he was dead, and yet, Firmin was also sure he killed me.

Perhaps I may never know.

-* Getting back to things that have happened in the past seven years; I was given back the title of Primadonna for six years, in the span of those six years Erik and I endlessly attempted to get pregnant again, yet, it was all failure.

I had four miscarriages.

_Four._

I didn't think I could handle the dismally harrowing emotions any longer when, a miracle occurred, I became pregnant! And, nine months later, I gave birth to little Pierre who was perfect in every way. I use the word 'perfect' not in speaking of Pierre's handsomeness, hell, Martha was the most beautiful baby girl I had ever lain eyes upon. I use 'perfect' in speaking of Pierre in his attitude and behavior; his all around personality, generally. He was happy, and loved to laugh, he was incredibly smart and was already uttering words at six months!

Now, he was five years old and played Mozart, Bach, Saint-Seans, and his father's own works on Erik's piano! Not without hitches, mind you, but for a child of only five years, it was a wonderful feat!

Erik was teaching Pierre all of the ins and outs of music; he already mastered the harpsichord and was mere weeks away from dominating the organ!

Pierre learnt like his father, fast.

-* Now, we three arrived down to our home; and, I realized, I had neither seen Erik's face, or known his last name!

Pierre's mummy and daddy still weren't married!

With all that was going on our marriage was stalled; Erik swore to me he would begin planning it again, once Pierre ascertained all of the dynamics of an organ. I had agreed to this and now became anxious, praying every night for Pierre to grasp the concept faster; for, I wanted to be sure Erik and I would never part.

During these seven years I had constantly been getting surprise visits from Monsieur William de Chagny; begging me to come live with him. I resisted every time, but, it was becoming tiring, I almost wanted to give Erik free reign to decide whether to kill him or not. I often received notes from him, which ended up in the fire as soon as my eyes devoured the words. I dare not tempt Erik.

One day, however, I took Pierre to Jardin des Tuileries and explained to him of Erik and my dates to the park. "When I am old enough to court a woman, I shall take her here...every Sunday, as you and father do! Then, I'll take her shopping and...well, father's been teaching me ventriloquism...I could show her that!" Little Pierre cried; I giggled and held his small hand.

"You know, ventriloquism is one of the things your father promised me before we had you" I paused and knelt down to him. "Pierre, you are never too young or old to court a woman, understand that right now; if you see a girl that sparks your fancy today, you may court her. There is no age limit on love, my son." Said I, running my finger's through his jet black hair that matched Erik's. But his face resembled the softness of my own.

Pierre was a happy mix of Erik and I.

I smiled. "Come now, let us go get an ice cream, what say you to that?" I asked and he grinned.

"I say yes, mummy" said he, I smiled and, as we ate our ice creams beneath a familiar tree; I spotted the very man I was growing weary of.

William.

_**(A/N)**_

_**Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I just wanted to say that I'm starting yet another Phanfiction on here I've named 'In the Shadow of the Moon'. I'm open to suggestions about it, for, I have only now a vague idea of what I plan to do with it. (Of course it's E/OC) that's all! **_

_**Au Revoir! (don't fret, there is another chapter or few after this!) **_


	31. The Angel's Disrepute

_Chapter Thirty One: The Angel's Disrepute_

-* I sighed, William was quite close, but, his back was to Pierre and I.

William walked with Raoul, but, Christine was no where in sight. Indeed, after a few moments observing them I found they were alone. Pierre gasped and I snapped to attention. "What is it, my son?" I asked, Pierre turned to me with sparkling black eyes and pointed to a man playing the piano; he was allowing people to play if they paid a small fee!

"Please, oh, mummy, please? If I play, will you sing?" Asked Pierre, devouring his ice cream.

"I don't know, Pierre..." I said, glancing back over to William who was engaged in conversation with his uncle.

"Oh,_ please_, mummy!" Pierre cried, sitting upon is knees and giving me the 'puppy dog' face, widening his eyes and sticking out his lower lip. I smiled and dug in my pocket, pulling out the appointed money and handing it to him; with laughter of joy he helped me up from my seat beneath the tree and led me over to the man with the piano. The man that sat at the piano was elderly with snow white hair and glazed, green eyes; his smile, however, couldn't be brighter!

"Bonjour, young man! Have you come to listen to me play?" The only man asked, addressing Pierre who was grinning from ear to ear and grasping my hand tightly with stifled excitement.

"No, monsieur, I was wondering if I could play myself! A-And my mummy sing too!" Pierre cried, letting go of my hand but clenching the money. The old man laughed and slowly stood, motioning to the piano; Pierre jumped in the seat and set the money in a small bucket, he looked to me. "What would you like to sing, mummy?" Asked he, I smiled and brought my hands together before me.

"What would you like to play, Pierre?"

"Well...father's been teaching me a song...a song he said was your debut song...a song, he said, made the angels pause their singing and hiss in disrepute; for, your voice soared so high and with such a methodic cascade that no one, not even the angels could _wish_ to reach that tone and level of fairness. He said that your voice of divinity could only hope to be matched by masterfully cunning hands; and so, here I'll try...I'll make father proud" Pierre said, his smile hanging the sun. My eyes filled with tears both at Erik's words and at Pierre's proposition; I rushed to my son and hugged him tightly.

"Oh, Pierre.." I whispered, sniffling. "You don't understand of how proud he and I are of you...we were always proud of you, my son. And we will always be proud of you." Said I, kissing the child's cheek and backing away, wiping my eyes and nodding to Pierre. "Let us begin then" said I, standing before the piano and sighing.

Pierre nodded happily and his fingers, which were slightly longer than normal, but, no where near as long as his father's, glided over the ebony keyboard before him; starting the tune to_ 'Think of Me'_.

I smiled as I allowed my vocal chords to ring out the lyrics to the wonderful song to the world; as I sang, I noticed a crowd begin to gather, and, in that crowd was William and his uncle, Raoul. William's eyes sparkled as Pierre's eyes sparkled not moments before! William seemed to be in a daze, a smile spread across his face and in his eyes I spotted absence...and love.

Little Pierre played the song perfectly! He hit every note _to a tee_! At the end of the song I ran to him and enveloped him in a hug. "I love you, Pierre, always know that. Mummy and daddy love you" I whispered, Pierre chuckled as the crowd around us screamed and cheered.

"I know, mummy, and I love you too" said he, hugging me tighter. Oh, what ever did I do to end up with such a wonderful son as he?

As moments passed the crowd dissipated and all that were left was William, Raoul, Pierre and I (and the old man). William stepped forwards, he was still in his daze. He knelt down to one knee and took up my hand, kissing all over my palm, all the way down my fingers! Pierre narrowed his eyes at this new man, for, I had never disclosed to him who William was. "Oh, Persephone, that was...beautiful...you are beautiful...you always have been and always will be" said William, smiling up to me, still upon his knee.

Pierre cleared his throat. "Mummy, who is this man?" Pierre asked, the air of disgust taking over his features.

"Pierre this is William de Chagny" said I, motioning to William as he stood and stuck out his hand to Pierre; Pierre shook his hand uncertainly. "And this, is William's uncle; Viscount Raoul de Chagny." I finished; again, Pierre was hesitant. "William, Raoul, this is my son, Pierre" said I, introducing them all.

"Well, now I finally meet the boy! That was some astonishing playing a few moments ago Monsieur Pierre!" William said jovially, attempting to become happily acquainted with the child.

"I learnt it from my father...along with much else" Pierre replied, obviously suspicious of William. Now, it clicked with me, Erik told Pierre of the de Chagny's!

"Ah, your father is a very...learned man, so I hear. Now-" William said, turning to me and grinning. "Why don't you two join us for lunch? Oh, come now, it's a little, Italian place quite near here" William said, attempting to persuade me to eat with him.

"Oh, I don't know, monsieur-"

"Come now! Raoul, bring little Pierre!" William cried merrily; grasping my wrist and yanking me away; soon afterwards stuffing my arm through his own. I glanced back to see Raoul speaking quaintly with Pierre, who listened intently, but, kept glancing over to William. I turned back to see that the little, Italian restaurant William spoke of, was the very same restaurant Erik took me to! I smiled as we walked inside; immediately I ripped my arm from William's and called out for Adriano.

"Adriano! Adriano! It's Persephone!" I cried, all of a sudden, the kitchen doors were thrown back and the man himself came barreling through the door!

"Persephone!" He cried, taking me up in his arms and squeezing me until all the breath had been crushed out of my lungs. I took this opportunity to whisper into Adriano's ear: "my son and I are here with William de Chagny and Raoul de Chagny against our wishes...send for Erik" Adriano chuckled, playing along with the happy hugging. Then, when he kissed my right cheek he whispered:

"Right away"

With that, he gave us a table and nodded to me and gave us a few menus. I sat beside Pierre whilst William sat before me and Raoul sat before Pierre; during the meal, Pierre tapped me and asked for me to come closer. I did so and he asked: "what did you say to that man?" He then turned his head.

"It's nothing, don't worry, daddy's on his way" I whispered; as I sat straight again Pierre grinned evilly. He_ knew_ what was to come.

-* "Have you been receiving my letters, Persephone? You never reply" said William, digging into his dish of six tiered lasagna.

"I receive them, yes." I answered, sparsely eating my fettuccini alfredo.

"...Then...why do you not respond?" Asked William, glancing up from his plate; I sighed.

"You know why" I answered.

"No, no I don't, Persephone" William said, setting his utensils down and wiping his mouth, staring intently at me. Pierre and Raoul were silent. "Please, expound to me why"

"William.." I said with an exasperated sigh, placing my own utensils down. "You know Erik is not overly fond of you and I do not hold you in the highest regard either, Monsieur de Chagny; Erik would be furious to see you and I corresponding, and, I have no time nor inclination to" I answered; at first, I wanted to sugar coat it, then, I threw caution to the wind; I had a son and a wonderful, loving fiancé.

I didn't need or want William hanging around my life any longer.

William shook his head and sighed. "I realize you'll never love me the way you love Erik, Persephone, but, please, please tell me...at the very least when we first met...that stars did not hold your eyes when I first appeared in your dressing room. Persephone, you kept the roses." He whispered, a small smile upon his face; I closed my eyes, I didn't want to say anything before my child. But, Pierre refused to leave.

"...Yes, William...yes. When we first met you did spark my fancy...you were and still are incredibly handsome, but, I have made my decision to stay with Erik and my decision is final." I admitted, feeling my cheeks burn crimson under my son's gaze. It's hard to admit, before your son of your fiancé, that you fancied another man before that child's father...especially when you knew the child's father at that time too! I glanced back up to William to see his eyes grow to the size of pumpkins; he smiled and pushed Raoul out of the way, running around the table and taking up my hand, pulling me to the front of the table.

"You don't have to stay with Erik" William said.

"Are you ment-"

"Hear me out! I see the sparkles in your eyes! You smile when you look at me...and that kiss we shared all those years ago...could you not feel the passion? You...you let me in, Persephone, you allowed our tongues to mingle and-and I held your hand! Oh...Persephone...sweet...sweet, Persephone..." William said, gently touching my cheek. "Besides, you are only but engaged...you can break an engagement easily enough" William said, now, he grasped my shoulders; before, when he spoke of years ago, I felt as if I were under a trance, and...for a moment...but a moment...I would've kissed William again.

Now, the trance was broken. "Run away with me, Persephone, run away with me and we'll never look back! We can go to Barcelona, Victoria Falls, London, anywhere! Anywhere you want my lovely angel" he said, touching my cheek once more and bringing his lips towards mine; someone gasped and Pierre screamed:

"No!" Jumping out of his seat and throwing William away from me; causing William to hit the floor on his back, knocking the air out of him. "You will _not touch_ my mum!" Pierre growled, spreading his arms out beside him, it was his form of protecting me. And, in this moment, I found something else that Pierre inherited from Erik.

His rage.

-* After this, Pierre and I walked out of the small, Italian restaurant; only to see a carriage hurtling down the street and pausing before us, the horses were absolutely exhausted.

Out of the carriage stepped Erik, who hurried to me and immediately took me up in his arms, smashing our lips together and holding me to him. I giggled; what on earth ever possessed me to think of that way about William? To actually _want_ to kiss him when I had my wonderful Erik? My hormones must be going mental!

There was the sound of hurried footsteps that stopped short and the driver of the carriage asked for money, to this Erik dug in his pocket, got the money, and threw it at the driver; all the time keeping his eyes shut, which, I quickly did. Erik's kisses were always magical, I loved them, and this one was no different! After kissing my lips he slowly moved to my neck, I smiled and opened one eye, looking to Pierre; he didn't mind it when Erik and I kissed, in fact, he liked it.

Pierre was a romantic.

And, I knew, one day, he would treat a woman very, very nicely.

Erik sighed and released his lips from my neck, allowing me to stand again; he pushed me behind him and now, I noticed that Erik wore a belt and on that belt was the shiny rapier he almost used at La Carlotta's birthday bash


	32. Not Whilst I'm Around

_Chapter Thirty Two: Not Whilst I'm Around_

-* Raoul's eyes were wide in fear as he looked to Erik; William, however, was unfazed. "My god...Erik...you...you haven't aged a day!" Raoul cried; Erik pushed Pierre behind himself too, I held Pierre's hand. The carriage trotted away and left us five standing before the restaurant.

"One of the perks of being...abhorrent; no one knows if you've aged or not, Monsieur Viscount." Said Erik, gently backing away from the Italian restaurant, going a bit faster over the road and standing in the large, green field before the oaken tree that I sat under not an hour ago.

Raoul and William slowly followed.

"Have you planned something, Monsieur Erik?" William asked, walking forwards with intimidation peeking out of his step. I grasped Erik's arm, for; William turned his belt and there I saw a rapier with an engraved, golden handle. William smiled. "I have also prepared for this..._chance_ encounter" William added unsheathing his sword.

The sword, at the bottom and top, were engraved golden and in the middle was sparkling silver. Erik now lifted his from his own holster and pushed Pierre and I back to a safe distance. "En garde, Monsieur Erik!" William yelled, lunging for Erik, holding his sword, point first, before him. Erik, however, was more experienced in the skill of dueling, and, moved out of the way; causing William to lean forwards too much and fall to the ground.

However, William quickly turned and threw his sword forwards, clashing with Erik's. William hesitantly stood and it now became a power struggle between the men; William, sadly, was stronger than Erik. William shoved Erik away, causing Erik to stumble backwards, William did a twirl with his sword pointing outwards and Erik regained his balance just in time to meet William's sword; which was inches from Erik's head. I gasped and pushed Pierre farther away from the men; I would rather be hurt than he. Erik forced William's sword away and William backed up a few paces; breathing heavily.

Erik didn't lunge or stab at William, and I knew why; he was going to tire out William, and that is when he would make his move. "Oh, come now, Monsieur Erik! Surely you must fight better than that!" William said with a cocky smile; Erik grinned.

"Of course I can, Monsieur William, but at the moment I am stifling my skills" said Erik, William still wore that stupid, cocky smile.

"Oh? And why is that, monsieur?"

"To match yours" said Erik with a smile. William's smile vanished and he ran at Erik; Erik moved out of the way and, with William's back to him, kicked William's lower back! Sending William straight into the oaken tree and his sword to the ground beside him. After a moment, William stood and turned; his lip was busted and blood ran down his chin and dripped off of his face, onto his nice suit. William chuckled.

"I know what you're doing, Monsieur Erik, you're playing upon my rage; well, monsieur, it won't work that easily" William said with a wink to me; I pushed Pierre behind me ever more.

"I beg to differ, Monsieur Viscount, it appeared to work perfectly fine a few moments ago" Erik said with a small smile.

"Come now, Monsieur Erik, are we to fight or to speak?" William asked, spreading his legs out to further his stability.

"Well, Monsieur William you are doing an awful lot of talking for a man who craves action; so, I'll give you one good cut at me. Come along now, don't be shy, Persephone can vouch for me, I don't bite...very hard" Erik said, grinning devilishly and narrowing his eyes; William growled and ran at Erik, his sword pointed straight forwards, but, at the very last moment, William tripped and sent his sword hurtling to the ground. Erik made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Tut, tut, Monsieur William, tut, tut! That is not the way to hold a sword, especially if you are aiming to end someone's life!

Hold it sideways and swipe sideways; it is completely moronic to hold it straight before you like that, monsieur." Said Erik, looking down at William who laid upon his back on the lush field.

"Why are you helping me, monsieur?" William asked in disbelief; and Erik began laughing, he laughed so hard he had to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"_Helping_ you? Oh, you really believe I'm _helping you_? Monsieur, you've never been more wrong in your life! I simply want to give you a fighting chance before I kill you!" Erik cried; again William stood and swung his sword at Erik, this time, correctly.

Erik's sword crashed against William's and created a rather loud ringing noise. I glanced down to Pierre who stood silently at my side to see his mouth agape; it was his first time witnessing a fight of any sort. Erik and I attempted to keep Pierre very docile and protected...sheltered would be a better word. We told Pierre of duels and fights and how they worked, but, he had never seen one before. The men pushed away from each other and William swung for Erik's feet; Erik jumped and swung for William's arm, surely, surely it would connect!

Alas, something strange happened.

Raoul jumped before William! There was a cry of horror and Pierre hid behind my dress as the now-useless limb flopped to the ground.

_Erik cut Raoul's arm off!_

Raoul fell back into William's arms and Erik stood before them, offering no help, nor hindrance. A few on looking men ran forwards and lifted up Raoul, taking off their neatly white shirts and pressing them hard against the numb; attempting to stop the bleeding. These men hauled Raoul off to the hospital whilst William stood before all of us, his head bowed and his bangs falling before his eyes; with renewed anger, he looked up to Erik. "Monsieur Erik, you might not know, you might not care, but, my father is dead. Philippe de Chagny, he has been dead for some time now and my mother is weeks away from following; I swear to you, if you take my uncle from me I shall take life from you...and from your fiancé."

Said William, his gaze locking on me; my cheeks blushed a bit, he wanted to kill me too? I sighed and straightened, forcing Pierre fully behind me. I figured they were going to duel again, but, William threw his sword, blade down, into the earth; I could practically hear her shriek in pain as the blade broke through her skin of soil. He turned, with a fleeting glance to me, and stomped away, calling a cab and leaving; hospital bound.

-* We were silent as we both rode to, arrived to, and sat in our home on the lake. Yes, Erik, Pierre and I all still lived in the house on the lake; he was needed less often now, however, but, he enjoyed being so close to music. However, he promised that as soon as we were married, we would buy a little flat somewhere and live 'happily ever after'.

_-Three Days Later-_

-* Erik came storming into our bedroom; I was still asleep and Pierre slept in a small bed beside Erik and mine. Erik threw the door open, the flood of light that came in consequence of this jolted me awake. "What is it, dear?" I asked urgently; Erik said not a word but hurried over to me and pointed to a picture in the obituary.

It was Raoul.

"Oh god..." I whispered; Erik grunted and threw the newspaper, running his fingers through his hair.

"There is no safer place than here, my love...though...Raoul overcame my traps once...I'm not sure of what Raoul's told William, I'm not going to take a chance with my son and fiancé's lives. I'll be doubling the trap number on every entrance and non-entrance surrounding and in our home, Persephone, I need you to stay in the living area, kitchen, and bedroom; by no means go anywhere else, understood?" Asked he, I nodded and he kissed me; holding me in a hug afterwards. He sighed and ruffled Pierre's black hair; turning away and nodding to me, closing the door quietly and reading our home for attack.

-* Most of that day Pierre and I read together and played the piano together; we sang together and danced together. My, it was so wonderful having a child!

That night, as Pierre and I lounged on the couch Erik stepped into the room soaking wet. "My love! What's happened?" I asked quickly, standing.

"Nothing, angel. Just installed a few devices in the lagoon; do not, and I repeat,_ do not_ sit in the gondola, swim in the lake, or take the gondola to the other side of the lake, clear?" Asked he, staring at Pierre who was often fascinated with the gondola and pretended to be a pirate in it.

"Yes, father, but...what happens if I do?" Pierre asked. Erik sighed and removed his soaking coat.

"Then the siren will come get you and drag you underwater...and kill you" Erik said with strange bluntness; Pierre nodded quickly and Erik removed his cotton shirt, sighing and walking into our bedroom, closing the door after him. I sighed and turned to Pierre with a cheerful smile.

"Darling, let's...let's sing!" I said, Pierre sighed and sat down on the couch.

"But, we've already sung once to-day, mummy"

"You can sing more than once a day, silly!" I said with a giggle, touching the tip of his nose with my index finger and giving a giggle. Pierre sighed and laid down, placing his head on my lap as Erik would do sometimes at night; I played with his hair. "What's the matter, darling?" Asked I, Pierre sighed and sat up again, facing me.

"I'm confused, mummy. I'm so confused. Father told me of a man named William who tried to 'woo' you away from him...but...that's all he said of the man! Why are we hiding like rabbits? What is the story with this man, mummy?"

Asked Pierre, his eyes slowly turning yellow, as they did at night for some reason. I sighed and held his hands and, pulling out this journal, I read to him everything and explained points which he found unclear. "Do you understand now, my son? William is stubborn, very stubborn and he sticks to his word we're hiding because...because we can't risk losing each other. We mean too great a deal to each other to do something so careless as to _not_ hide; believe me when I say your father is a man of action and would much rather go duel William, but, he won't" I explained.

"Why won't he?" Asked Pierre, wide eyed.

"Because we'll lose each other. He knows that we would be separated until death and it would drive me absolutely mad to live in a world without him...a world I dare not even attempt to fathom. We're hiding because we love each other, my son." I whispered; Pierre nodded and hugged me around my torso.

"When I get older, I can only but hope to have a love with a woman as strong as your love with father" Said Pierre; he now stood and kissed my cheek. He laid me down on the couch and threw a blanket over me, smiling as my eyelids fluttered to a close. After a few moments I heard Pierre mutter under his breath: "if that man tries to touch your or father, mummy, I'll kill him. Father's taught me how to wield a Punjab lasso...and I'm very good at making poisons...the plants think so anyways; no one's going to hurt you or father...not whilst I'm around."


	33. Nightmare

_Chapter Thirty Three: Nightmare_

-* I woke to faint shouting and a small hand shaking me. "Mummy? Mummy, get up; I believe someone's trying to get in" Pierre said in a whisper; I opened my eyes and sat up, stretching groggily.

"Have you..." said I, pausing to yawn. "Have you told your father?" I asked rubbing my eyes; the faint shouting was getting a bit louder, and more voices were joining in.

"That's just it...I can't _find_ him!" Pierre cried; my eyes shot open and I stood, hurrying around our home and yelling for him, but we came up with naught. Now my emotions started to give way to panic and anxiousness. Pierre stood before me as I paced, mumbling to myself; finally, I sat down upon the couch and buried my head into my hands.

The voices were louder, and, it seemed, closer.

I wasn't thinking clearly, but the one thing I did know to do, was to get Pierre to a safe place. I stood again. "Pierre, my angel of a son, pray, go get a bag and pack your clothes and closest belongings in it, okay? I'm going to go to the kitchen and pack you a bag of food, grab a few books or something too, okay?" I asked, Pierre nodded and ran into our bedroom, packing my leather satchel that I arrived with, full of his clothes and most prized possessions which composed of: a stuffed elephant I sewed for him when he was a baby, music sheets and a pen, a blanket, the pair of opal earrings and diamond necklace Erik gave to me.

My brows furrowed when I saw him stuff them into his bag.

"Why do you want those, dear?" I asked, walking into the bedroom carrying a bag of food.

"I know you hold them dear...so...I'm going to keep them safe and give them back to you after this affair is over" said he; I smiled and put the bag of food into the satchel. Next, Pierre ran into the living area and stole his favorite books off of the shelf. Which were:_ 'The Many Trials and Tribulations of Shakespeare'_, _'To Death Do We Part'_,_ 'The Soul's Sincere Desire'_ (written by Erik), _'Dracula_', _'In Heaven I Burn'_, and my own diary!

I said nothing as I watched him glance about to make sure I wasn't looking; he then stuffed it inside his satchel and threw the satchel around him, tightening it to fit his thin frame. Now, the yelling was ever closer, I grasped his hand and led him into the Louis-Philippe room and through a white door, into a hexagonal room with mirrors on every side.

This was Erik's torture chamber.

When I was pregnant with Pierre Erik showed me a few of the many trap doors that laid dormant in our home upon the lake; one of these was a lose tile in the ceiling of the torture chamber. He said if I ever was to become stuck to stand on the top of the iron tree and bang the ceiling as hard as I could until I found the right tile. This I did, Pierre stood on the ground, dumbfounded. "Mummy, what are you doing? What is this room?"

He asked, I sighed and ignored his questions; he would soon find out, anyways.

I punched and punched until I heard a slight 'click' and a tile opened; I smiled and jumped down, hurriedly picking Pierre off of the ground and pushing him into the small space. "Follow this tunnel and it will take you to the surface; what I want you to do next is leave the Palais Garnier and go to this address" said I, handing him a piece of paper.

"Rue de Rivoli?" Asked he questioningly, I smiled.

"That's where Monsieur Daroga lives; do you remember him? Ah, good, well, I want you to go there and tell him everything that's happened; alright? He will, no doubt, take the very best care of you." I paused and felt tears yanking at my eyelids at the thought of leaving my most cherished possession. "I love you, my son...if you see your father...tell him...tell him I love him too and that no matter the outcome of this...I will be eternally his" I paused and fought back tears, gently touching Pierre's soft cheeks.

"I love you too, mummy; I'll wait for you at Rue de Rivoli with Monsieur Daroga, I promise" said he, I hugged him and heard water sloshing; whoever it was, had reached the shore. I kissed his forehead and him inside, telling him I loved him once more, then, I jumped down from the tree and shut the door the torture chamber; praying my little Pierre would get away safely. The sloshing came closer until I heard squeaks upon the hardwood flooring; I paused and closed my eyes as someone sighed.

"We meet again, huh, Persephone?" William asked; I opened my eyes to see him and a few other men standing before me, rapiers in hand. Though, they were soaking wet and their outfits were torn and soiled. "Nasty traps Erik set out for us, eh? He _really_ didn't want us to get to you" he added, I sighed and wiped my eyes.

"William, please-"

"No, no more begging and pleading; the time for that has ended. The day of its death was three days formerly, when Raoul perished; Christine and I by his side." William paused and now I noticed a crimson colour dripping off of his sword; he smiled sickly to me. "Persephone, you have no where to run anymore...your parents are dead, your friends are forty feet above...and your lover" said he, pausing and striding up to me and gently touching my chin. "Is dead" he finished; my jaw dropped and at once I felt nauseous; a ringing began in my ears and I stumbled away from him.

"No..." I whispered. "You lie" I growled, William chuckled.

"No, Persephone, I don't. His body floats in the very lagoon you thought would save you" William said, grasping my shoulders and dropping his sword and yanking my face close to his; he wanted to witness his spiting anger's affect upon me. I turned my face away as tears streamed down my cheeks; Erik, for years, had been my reason for living.

Some days he was the only reason I rose in the mornings; he was the only reason I hadn't killed myself.

I dropped to my knees and covered my face; William tore my hands away, he wanted to see me suffer. As I cried I grasped his arms "kill me" I whispered shakily and tears gushed from my eyes and jumped from my face, onto my dress and the floor.

"What?" Asked he, his tone softening.

"Kill me" I said once again, clearer this time. "I beg of you...kill me"

"No, Persephone...I cannot, and I will allow no one else to, either. I am going to take you to my home and there we will live; I will retrieve Pierre and he will live with us there, also. We'll get married and have even more children...just you and I" said he; I couldn't say anything, I _wouldn't_ say anything! My heart was demolished into tiny fractures in my rib cage; every time I breathed pain would shoot through my body. William lifted me from the ground and threw me over his shoulder; I seemed to be in a sort of paralysis where I couldn't move my arms or legs, my brain commanded me to, yet, they refused to move.

Perhaps it was the shards of my heart stabbing some sort of nerve.

-* I wailed all the way to his home and inside his home.

I looked at nothing but my quivering hands.

I breathed softly as he placed me down on what I figured was a bed; he sighed and kissed the top of my head, turning and leaving, locking the door behind him.

So, this is what he meant by 'and your fiancé too'.

-* William said he would grant me two weeks to grieve and then he would go get Pierre (I still hadn't told him where Pierre was, and, I wouldn't, even if he tortured me, I wouldn't let my precious child into his hands). Afterwards, apparently, we would be married and I would be named Countess. His mother, La Sorelli, said she would retire her title when he would marry me and she would go live with Christine, who was still grieving over Raoul's death.

This day and age is so confused that I no longer had a say in marriage; this was because the de Chagny family was powerful,_ very_ powerful. I was being forced to marry him, and there was nothing I could do about it, besides kill myself; which, I had tried. I attempted hanging myself with the curtain, banging my head against the wall, cutting my neck with a razor blade, starving myself, and generally doing horrid things to myself. My self harm became so severe that William assigned men to look after me so I wouldn't kill myself in the course of my two week 'grieving process'.

It was the day before my two week grant was over and I hid beneath the covers of the bed; attempting to enjoy warmth. I sighed and found it a lost cause, standing and walking into the WC, when I walked past the mirror I recoiled in horror. My hair was stringy and slick from lack of washing, you could clearly discern where my ribs were through my dress, my skin was the colour of alabaster and brunet circles hung beneath my eyes. My face was free of bruises, but a faint line was visible where I'd cut my neck; my hands constantly trembled and my nails grew long. My eyes themselves were maroon and puffy from countless hours weeping; this is when I heard the distinct creaking of the hinges on the door being widened, someone opened the door.

I turned from the mirror and the monster therein to see an oldish woman with greying, brown hair and icy blue eyes. She wore a wonderful green velvet dress embellished with sparkling gems I no longer could recognize; she sighed when she caught sight of me. Without a word she grasped my wrist and pulled me to the bed, gently setting me down; she stepped back a few paces and shook her head in dismay. "Why do you do this to yourself, child?" Asked she in a squeaky, yet caring, tone.

Tears gathered in my eyes once more. "The only man I'll ever love is dead and god only knows what happened to my son...my son...my poor, little Pierre" I whispered; the woman sat next to me and patted my back.

"All is not lost, child, all is never lost" she whispered; I sniffled and chuckled wearily, shaking my head.

"And that, mademoiselle, is where you are wrong" I said softly; the woman sat back and sighed.

"William isn't that bad, child, he's very sweet and thinks of nothing else but you" she attempted to persuade and that is when I lost my temper.

"He killed my fiancé!" I screamed, jumping from the bed and clenching my bony fists in animosity. "How _dare_ you say he's 'not that bad'? He killed my fiancé and...has done everything to take me for his own; all I wanted is to be left alone, mademoiselle, I wanted to live out my life in peace at the Palais Garnier with my son and my soon-to-be husband. My life, mademoiselle, has been nothing but hell; pure, unbroken, purgatory.

My fiancé was the only thing that kept me afloat, he was the only thing that made my life bearable; great, even. And now..." I yelled, falling into a whisper, sitting beside her on the bed once more. "Now, I'm back in purgatory" I finished; the woman sighed.

"I thought I raised my son to be better than that...I'm sorry, child; I wish I could help you. I may only offer words of condolences and support; William is unstoppable when he pleases." The woman finished, then, I realized, this woman was William's mother! "I would help you more, child, if I were both physically and mentally able...but my mind is degrading at the speed of my body and William will no longer listen to his mother. The only one able to help is Christine and she's still grieving over the death of her husband...she is most unlikely to oblige you; for, she is one of the people who helped in planning to make you my son's bride."

La Sorelli paused and sighed, catching her breath. "You'll make quite a lovely bride, Persephone" said she, running her fingers through my hair.

"Mademoiselle" I whispered, biting my bottom lip. "Could you do this one thing for me, I beg of you, and pray, keep this sealed from William? Thank you. My son is in Rue de Rivoli with a man Erik and I knew, his name is the Daroga; please, if I give you a note will you give it to my son? His name is Pierre; he has black hair and eyes that turn yellow at night...he's short and strong and has every aspect of his father.." I said, trailing off.

"Of course, it will be just between you and I. Here is pen and paper; write the note quickly, William said he would be up in a few moments after I spoke with you." Said she giving me pen and paper; I wrote everything down, sparing few details (especially of how I appeared). I folded the note up afterwards and handed it to her, thanking her; she smiled and stood, just then, William knocked upon the door and came in, all smiles.

"Good evening, my love. Tomorrow's the big day; and so, I've gotten some dresses for you to try on...pick any one you want, price is no object." Said he, standing off to the side as four racks of sparkling white dresses glided into the room; he smiled, and kissed my cheek. I only sighed and took it, I learnt that rebelling only makes him do it more. "You're so beautiful" he whispered, pushing my hair out of my face and smiling; I gave a quick smile and he cleared his throat, standing again.

"Call me when you pick out a dress, darling; I'll be downstairs, readying a suit and eating cake samples." He said with a grin, attempting to cause me to laugh; La Sorelli laughed, I only averted my gaze. William sighed "I'll be off, then" he added, walking out and shutting the door after his coat tail left the room.

La Sorelli patted my shoulder. "Don't worry, child, your son will get this" said she, motioning to the note neatly hidden in her pocket; I thanked her and she too left the room. I sighed and crawled back into bed; curling into a ball. My eyes drooped and I felt a sharp pain in my chest area, a shard of my heart had come loose and was floating around; I groaned and mercifully was stolen into the land of sleep with Erik's name upon my lips.

_**(A/N)**_

**_Anyone else cry? No? Just me? Oh. _**

**_(Don't fret, it'll get better for Persephone!) _**


	34. Wedding Day

_Chapter Thirty Four: Wedding Day_

-* The door was thrown open and a dozen young ladies carrying hair products, brushes, soap, food, nail care products, hair accessories, and hair curlers waltzed into the room.

Scaring me half to death.

I cried out and fell off of the bed; landing on the hardwood floor and groaning; sitting up only to find the girls, William, La Sorelli, and an old woman with squinting green eyes staring at me. The old woman nodded. "And, the marriage is against her will, yes?" The old woman asked in a German accent that was surprisingly understandable.

"Yes, mademoiselle" William said, smiling to me; the old woman nodded.

"She will be a challenge, but, so is every woman; and they always are satisfied in the end. Now, I need you all to go back downstairs, especially you, William; it is bad for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. Girls-!"

"Mademoiselle?" La Sorelli spoke up. "I need a private word with the bride, if you please" La Sorelli added; the old woman nodded, but stood still, everyone stood still besides La Sorelli. She helped me off of the ground and pulled me into a different room; far away from the one I was caged in. She smiled as she revealed a note from her pocket.

"Your son is the sweetest, most gentlemanlike boy I've ever met" she whispered; I smiled and tears rushed to my eyes, Erik always wanted him to be a gentleman. "I haven't read the note" she continued "but I'll stand here with you as you do" she finished, I thanked her and quickly opened it. Taking out a tri-folded letter; it ran thus:

_Dearest Mummy, _

_I'm relieved to hear that you're okay! Monsieur Daroga has been worrying of your heath for days; he's even sent out a few search parties for you. Dead? Who told you father was dead? Was it that William man? Mummy, don't-_

All of a sudden, the note was ripped from my hands and I turned to see William with a smile upon his face. "Give that back!" I yelled, lunging for the letter; William backed away and tore the letter to shreds before me. My mouth dropped and I shook my head. "You insolent, inconsiderate, pig-headed, loud-mouthed, arrogant, bastard!"

I yelled, narrowing my eyes and clenching my fists to the best of my ability, without breaking my bones. William smiled and poked my nose. "Yes, my dear, I may be all of those things; but you're the woman who will be married to and make love to an insolent, inconsiderate, pig-headed, loud-mouthed, arrogant, bastard Count. And, you'll birth our insolent, inconsiderate, pig-headed, loud-mouthed, arrogant children; words will not help you anymore, Persephone. Words can do nothing."

William finished; that last statement made me cringe in anger, for, I knew the power of words, and so did he, he just chose to ignore them.

I decided to play his game.

"Okay, William, you win." I said, pausing, William's features morphed into softened surprise. "I'll marry you, I'll bear children with you...and enjoy it; we'll retrieve Pierre and live happily. We'll forget all about Erik and my time at the Palais Garnier, hmm? Sound nice?"

I asked, William pulled me to his side and quickly nodded; then I smiled devilishly, I figured him out. When I said what he wanted to hear, I had him around my finger. "Just remember, William" said I pausing and breaking his grip of me. "Words mean nothing" I finished, winking; a smile appeared on his face and he laughed.

"Smart, smart woman!" He cried, laughing all the way down a large, marble staircase. I sighed and the old woman grasped my hand, yanking me back into my cage where the door was slammed shut behind me and I was pushed into the WC; where a dozen girls stood before a tub of steaming hot water holding brushes, soap, nail files, sponges, the afore mentioned hair care products, and towels; smiles covered their faces.

"Oh, god, no" I whispered as my dress was torn off and I was pushed into the water; some of the girls gawked at how slender I was, at how unhealthy I looked. The older woman sighed.

"Get her the most fattening, sugary things you find, two of you. Go, now." The old woman ordered as two girls hurried away and ten girls scrubbed me harshly and ran the combs through my hair; dunking me in the water every so often to get the soap and hair products out. I coughed and hacked, but the old woman rolled her eyes as I was continuously scrubbed; then, the girls returned bearing so much sugary food, the sheer look of it made me nauseous. I begged the older woman not to make me eat it all; she laughed in my face. "Really?

You don't want to? Come now, dear, do you want to die?" The woman asked with a chuckle.

"Yes" I growled through the girl's brushes; everything stopped. The girls paused brushing and the woman's face fell for a moment; then she sighed and retained her posh manner.

"Well, I'm being paid good money to be sure you look perfect and not dead, so, you must eat it...all of it." Said she; I wasn't going to eat it all on my own, and I told her that, I refused to eat it. Which, only ended up in the girls force-feeding me; I even bit a few of them.

I became nauseous once again moments later and leaned over the side of the tub; vomiting on the floor. My stomach couldn't take barely eating anything for two weeks to eating all of France's pastries in a matter of moments! The old woman groaned and two girls cleaned it up; next, one girl walked over to me holding a small, black bowl with a woolen mitt, in the other was a knife looking object. In the bowl was a sticky liquid the colour of honey. Another girl held my leg out of the water and globed the concoction onto my leg!

I gasped in surprise; the mixture was hot!

But, it didn't burn me.

Next, she slathered the liquid all over my leg, not missing a spot. Then, on top of the liquid she placed a piece of parchment and patted it down; then, she _ripped it off! _

I cried out and glanced down to see that she was taking the very minimal hair I had on my legs and she was ripping it out! Why was she doing that? To this I asked the woman and she smiled. "It's more aesthetically pleasing to the men and Monsieur William ordered you the whole package of making over, darling. It includes, waxing, washing, grooming, trimming, making-up, nail filing and primping, dress adjusting, and generally making you more pleasurable to a man's eye."

The old woman answered; I sighed, why should I try to be more pleasing to him? I never had to do anything to myself for Erik, he thought I was extremely beautiful in my original state.

-* The torturous bathing and waxing and nail primping, grooming, trimming, and making-up had ended and now they wanted to get me into a dress. They gave me twenty moments freedom before _that_ began. I glanced out of the small window I kept shut and saw people setting up great, white tents with white chairs and a white alter beneath it; the floral caterers were there and tying white roses to the white chairs with white ribbons.

Why was it all so white?

I turned away from the window and glanced at the dresses; they were mostly white too, however, a few of them had soft, pink roses on them. All of a sudden there came a small noise from beside me, as if someone were tapping a spoon against a champagne glass. Again, I turned and glanced out of the window, and, for a moment I saw nothing out-of-the-ordinary; then, I saw a crop of black hair peeking from a green bush, then it led to black eyes and a familiar face.

Pierre!

My little Pierre!

My hand dashed to my mouth as, with the other hand, I touched the window. In his palm were a handful of pebbles he sat down beside him; he was so brave, so courageous, so much like his father. I threw open the window (never fear, I wore a small under dress, it was a bit scandalous to wear before my son, but, I was _not_ putting on a wedding dress) and gestured quickly to him; I held out my arms and encouraged him to run and climb for me (I was on the second floor of the de Chagny manor, which consisted of four floors.) He shook his head and gestured for me to come to him; I glanced down to see that the nearest foothold was quite a ways down, and, seeing my pitiable state, I wouldn't make it down without severely injuring myself.

Then, I came up with an idea.

-* I walked out of my cage and down the stairs to see the twelve girls and the old woman lounging in the living area with William, who, was already dressed in his tuxedo. He stood as I approached and his jaw fell to his feet; his words were reduced to mere blathers. "My god, woman! You can't just go waltzing around in that!" The old woman yelled.

"Yes, she can" William said, turning to the woman; I rolled my eyes and stepped down into the living area.

"Where's the kitchen?" I asked

"Why?" William asked, still staring at me.

"I'm hungry" I lied.

"Straight down that hallway and take a left" said William, staring at me as I passed by him. Once I was in the kitchen I hurried over to a small closet and found a large coat; smiling I put it on and began looking for a window.

It didn't take me long to find one, maybe five minutes, at the maximum.

I quietly opened the window and slipped out; closing it again and sighing as I felt the sun gently touch my skin. How I had missed its warmth. Around the manor I walked, avoiding windows; especially those leading to the living area) and finally meeting my son! I held him close and twirled a rogue piece of hair, like I used to do with his father, and kissed his cheeks. I sighed and he tapped my shoulder. "Yes, my precious child?"

"I think we may want to run, mummy" said he, my brows furrowed.

"Why?" I asked, and he turned me; I made eye contact with one of the floral caterers who screamed for William. I stood quickly and grasped Pierre's hand, running away with him. We ran until we met a road and Pierre hailed a cab.

"54 Rue de Rivoli, please, monsieur! Ten francs if you get us there within ten moments!" Pierre yelled, pushing me eagerly into the carriage, then, jumping in himself.

"Oui, monsieur!" The driver cried, snapping the reins and off we went! Barreling down the streets of Paris. I held on tightly to Pierre who now noticed my self harm.

"Mummy...you're so...thin and pale...and" he whispered, now spying the faint line that ran across my neck. "Mummy..." he whispered in disbelief "why would you do such a thing to yourself? Father's not going to be-"

"Wait...what?" I asked quickly, my heart stopped for a moment.

"...All I said was that father's not going to be very happy when he sees what's happened to you" Pierre finished.

"W-What do you mean 'father'? Erik's dead" said I, now, realization passed over Pierre's face.

"That man told you father was dead, didn't he? No, mummy, father is ill but not dead; he was stabbed and pushed into the lake. He came to Rue de Rivoli completely exhausted and almost unable to move from hypothermia; but, he is still alive, mummy. He said he won't die until you tell him to" Pierre said, a smile spreading across his face as he watched my features. I grabbed Pierre and yanked him to me, crying and burying my face in the child's shoulder; I couldn't believe him for a moment, I was completely broken, now.

My emotions were in taters, yet, a hole that was made by his 'death' was filled and warmth returned to me.

All of a sudden, a revolver shot pierced the world around us and our horses reared and brought the carriage to a stop; there was a familiar thud and I left the carriage.

The driver's body lay beside the carriage; a bullet in his brain.

Another carriage was fast approaching; so, I slammed the door shut and jumped in the driver's seat, cracking the reins and feeling the horses charge! The horses panted loudly as their hooves beat against the cobblestone; other carriages halted four our carriage to fly through. I didn't recognize where I was; however, I saw the Eiffel Tower and made for that, for, the Palais Garnier wasn't far from the Eiffel Tower and I knew my way around from there. More gunshots rang out into the day, yet, none of them touched me; they were just warning shots.

As the Eiffel Tower came into sight the horses began to divert from my commands and I found that the gunshots weren't warning shots; whoever it was pulling the trigger, _shot the horses_! "No.." I whispered as the poor animals ran to the best of their abilities. I shook my head and yanked the reins back; coming to a sharp stop. I jumped off of the driver's seat and yanked Pierre out of the carriage itself; running as fast and as hard as we could. However, I was a bit slower than normally, seeing as I wore no shoes.

The people chasing us stayed in their carriage, giving them an unfair advantage.

If they were to play unfair, then we would play unfairly too.

I pulled Pierre up a ladder and onto a roof. "Now, darling, we're going to jump" said I.

"Mummy, are you mad?!" He cried; I smiled wearily.

"Not as of yet, my son. We're going to jump from this roof to that one if they come after us; when they get onto this roof, we jump to the one before us and then we climb down and run." I explained; Pierre's eyebrows furrowed.

"What will this do?" Asked he "you know, standing on the roof and waiting for them?" He clarified. I shrugged.

"Eventually, Monsieur Daroga will become worried and come out to find you; he'll come by here...he has to...he'll see us." I explained.

"...And what if they don't get out of their carriage and Monsieur Daroga _doesn't_ come to find us?" Pierre asked, I paused.

"Then, in the dead of night we hurry away to Rue de Rivoli" I answered; staring at their carriage, and I feared it would be as Pierre said; they didn't appear as if they were leaving their carriage any time soon.

_**(A/N)**_

_**Hello all! I just wanted to say that at the end of this book I will hold a Q&A chapter so, if anyone has questions for this book (or for me, personally) start sending them in! Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, I'll be posting the other chapters as soon as I write them...hehe. (Which, probably won't be tomorrow, I have rehearsal tomorrow). Au Revoir! **_


	35. End of a Viscount's Love Story

Chapter Thirty Five: End of a Viscount's Love Story.

-* Pierre was, indeed, correct. We sat on the roof until night stole in, then, I heard the carriage doors open. I grasped Pierre's arm and nodded to him, however, it was quite hard to see, considering the only thing we used for light was the distant Eiffel Tower to our back.

There was a slight clinking to the left of us; they were climbing up. Pierre and I slowly walked to the side of the roof and slid down; Pierre made me slide down first. Then, as Pierre slid down, he screamed out for me. "Mummy!" He yelled; I gasped and hurried back over to the building. There were men grunting and Pierre was screaming for me, as if he were in pain. The thought of my little Pierre in pain infuriated me; there were no ladders or ropes to hoist myself up upon so I grasped onto the few bricks that jutted out and climbed up for my son.

My nails continued peeling back as some of the bricks crumbled beneath my weight; my hands shook and my fingertips were covered in a glowing maroon liquid and stung every time I touched a brick. Pierre had now fully let go of the brick building and was sputtering wildly; his legs flew before him and his hands clawed at the man who held him. I don't know why the man wouldn't just yank Pierre over the roof, but, I was thankful that he didn't. Finally, I reached up and I grasped Pierre's sock, for, his shoe had flown off in his fight. Pierre calmed the leg that I touched, but his other leg and hands struck the man holding him captive viciously.

The man cried out and I felt Pierre's weight bare down upon me; it was too much for the crumbling building. The bricks that once held me turned to dust beneath my feet; Pierre grasped my shoulders and held himself close to me before we hit the ground.

When we did, I gasped for breath, but none was to be given! In a panic I pushed Pierre off of me and rolled onto all fours, gasping and hacking until air was once again let into my lungs. I shook violently and the tips of my fingers froze over, along with my toes; I guess it was from the lack of oxygen, if only for a moment or two. Pierre held my shoulders and was asking if I was alright, he kissed my cheek when I nodded. I gave a weak smile and heard a few men cursing as the clinking of footsteps on metal rang in my ears once again; they were coming down from the roof. I stood and almost fell over, shaking my head and grasping Pierre's wrist; there was no time for dizziness now.

And, together we ran.

Mother and son.

In these moments I realized (it was quite a late realization) that William would haunt us until either he or I are laying in a coffin.

And so, lately I had been formulating plans, and, as of now, I had a plan, not a good plan, but a plan nonetheless, only, Erik couldn't know about it.

He wouldn't react the same.

No one could know about it.

Well...

Maybe Pierre.

-* "That's it! You've gone completely, utterly, mental!" Pierre screamed as he ran beside me. "Do you know what father would be like? You'd destroy him! You can't do this, mummy, you just can't."

"Well, Pierre, we can't just run like this forever!" I countered.

"But, mummy, you'll kill him...you'll kill him, I know it! Can't we just lead him to Rue de Rivoli and shoot him there?" Pierre asked, I sighed (which is quite hard to do as you run from the very man you're speaking of killing).

"It would end it blood" I said as soft as I could.

"It will all end in blood!" Pierre cried, "either way we chose...we cannot win...can't you see, mummy? Either way, whichever plan we go with, someone is going to die" said Pierre, shaking his head.

"Pierre" I started "if we do as you suggest and lead him to Rue de Rivoli, as was the original plan, we would surely have a shoot out and more than just William would die. It could be you, or I, or Erik or the Persian, any one of us! Oh, Pierre..." I said, fading into a whisper.

"But, you've just escaped him, mummy. You can't go back. At the very least see father; he's ill and he needs you, just as you need him." Pierre pleaded, even though we ran beneath a moonless sky I clearly discerned the over-wetness of my son's eyes; he knew the situation was dire, he knew the circumstances, and yet, he would do anything to keep his mummy and daddy together.

Pierre, in his short years of life, had only cried when he was a newborn. He had never shed a tear since then, I guessed he learnt that from Erik, too. "We must free ourselves of them, I will not lead them to Erik when he is weak. We will go by and speak with Erik and devise a better plan, okay?" Asked I, Pierre nodded and wiped his eyes, grasping my wrist and running ever faster.

-* The clouds veiled the twinkling stars from the inhabitants of the earth that night, and, as I mentioned before, it was a moonless night. The only way we could tell if the men were still running after us was their labored breathing; even then, it was hard for, Pierre and I were also having trouble making the oxygen reach our lungs.

It wasn't long until Rue de Rivoli was in sight, but the men were still hot on our trail. I looked to Pierre to see that his little engine was running out of steam; after all, we had run quite a few miles, I guessed. His eye lids were half closed, his pace was slowing, and every time his feet touched the cobblestone ground his face contorted in pain. I sighed and put my own grievances on the back burner, plucking him from the ground and attempting, in vain, to run at a swift pace.

I didn't know where to go, I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to lead the men to my ailing fiancé but, I had nowhere else to run.

Well, besides back to the Palais Garnier, but, my legs and toes were beginning to cramp up; I wouldn't be able to make it back to the Palais Garnier.

I ran to fifty four Rue de Rivoli and banged on the door; bouncing quickly and shrieking for them to let me in. Seconds afterwards the Persian opened the door and I shoved myself inside, placing Pierre on the ground and slamming the door shut, locking every lock the Persian had, and pushing a chair before the door. "Are the windows locked?" I asked frantically.

"Yes, they're always locked" the Persian answered, I sighed in relief and fell down upon a light green couch; to say the very least, I was exhausted. Everything was quiet for a few moments as I closed my eyes and allowed my breathing to return to normal; when I opened my eyes, however, the expression of pity was so clearly carved into the Persian's features that a newborn could tell that something was terribly wrong. The Persian only stared at me, he shook his head occasionally and then sighed. "Erik's not going to be very happy about this" he whispered, I grinned. All of a sudden there came slight shuffling to a darkened room to the right of me and out came my Erik, cloaked in white sheets with skin comparable to snow.

He didn't shiver or sneeze or cough; apparently he was improving quite hurriedly. But, when he saw me, oh, when he saw me! He fell to his knees on the ground before me and wept.

He thought I was dead.

I leaned forwards and touched his cheek, bringing his forehead to mine. Now I understood why Pierre so hated my plan; Erik was broken and my plan would surely drive him to his grave. He grasped my arms tightly, as if to hold me to him...it is as if he believed I would vanish into thin air before his very eyes. "Erik, I love you, and know that...that whatever I do...I do for us; okay? Don't take anything I do personally as of these next few days or weeks, alright?

You have to trust me, Erik, you must trust me...I love you so much" I whispered, his weeping caused a few tears to yank free of my eyes as well; Erik thumbed them away and kissed my nose.

"I will always trust you...and love you" he said, clearing his throat twice. "Tell me your plan, baby girl, and I'll go along with it" said he, I smiled, he hadn't called me that nickname in a few years; oh, how I missed it. I hugged him and pulled my lips to his ear, whispering my plan to him; after I was finished however, he tore me away from him and stared deeply into my eyes. "No, never, you will not do this. I cannot risk you again!" He yelled; I hushed him.

"Listen, Erik! Just, listen...we'll be free of William...we will, I promise. I won't mess up." I assured; again, Erik shook his head.

"No, besides, what happened to all of that 'don't kill anyone, it won't bode well for my conscience' speak? Now it is you who want to do the killing! No, you saw a corpse once and that is all" Erik hissed, standing from me; Pierre and the Persian sat across the living area and patiently watched.

"Erik, pleas-"

"No! How many ways must I say it? No, non, nien, ne, ingen, ei ole, keine, nr, tidak! No!" He yelled before pausing and breathing heavily.

He fell down beside me and pulled me into his arms; playing with my hair. He was more calm now. "It was a lovely thought, angel, but there is no way I am allowing you to do that. Besides, you've never killed anyone before; you'll leave something behind to incriminate yourself. You're an armature and this level of murder requires an expert hand; seeing as what a scandal would unfurl by his imminent demise."

He finished with another sigh; he looked over my body again and hugged me close, there was no need to explain what happened, I was confident, by looking into his reddened eyes, that he knew. He held me gently, and, as I looked past him I saw a large pile of newspapers in the room he emerged from; one of the newspapers was almost torn to shreds, however, the title still remained.

'Star Soprano Forced Into Marriage'

-* For a number of days after this we remained in Rue de Rivoli and Erik got better by the hour! It was remarkable how fast he healed, physically, anyways; for, he clung to me day and night, which, I had no quarrel with. One day, however, as I read he hugged my fattening torso and stared up at me with lovesick eyes; even though we already had a child, Erik treated me as if we were in the heat of courting, he never passed up a chance to show me how much he loved me. I glanced down to him and smiled. "What is it, dear?"

Asked I; Erik smiled dopily. "Let's get married" said he, I looked to him in surprise; what a time!

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now! There's no better time than now, angel" said he, standing and taking up my hand, I placed the book, face down upon the couch.

"B-But, Erik, we could get hijacked or something! William would take me back and-" I attempted to say, but, Erik stole my lips faster than I could speak.

"I'll protect you" he said with a smile in both his eyes and upon his lips; I sighed and nodded quickly. Secretly, I begged him to say those words, but, I thought the time was horrid for a wedding. But, I would do anything for him.

As we left, I spotted Erik placing a loaded revolver in his trouser pocket.

-* We arrived at the church moments later, the very same church Erik built! Erik hurried to the priest, holding my hand, and whispered something in the priest's ear. "It's a go?" The Priest asked after Erik stepped away from him and nodded. Erik took me to a small closet and told me to get inside and stay quiet; as he closed the door I slammed my hands against it.

He opened the door again. "What's the problem, my love?" Asked he.

"What is going on? I thought we were getting married" said I, he smiled.

"Of course we are, we just need to get rid of a certain pest beforehand. No worries, Pierre, the Persian and Darius are already here" he explained.

"Darius? I thought he was dead"

"No, he got away" Erik replied, he glanced down to his watch and stepped into the closet, he kissed my forehead and stepped out. "I'll come get you when the ordeal is over...alright?" Asked he, I nodded; but, in reality, there wasn't any way I would sit in a closet and wait. I knew he realized that by the way he grinned to me as he closed the door. I pressed my ear to the door and listened to his footsteps grow faint; then, there was a great clatter and a sickening voice filled the air about me.

"Ah, Monsieur Erik, so we meet again. To end this, once and for all, hmm?" William said, I opened the door a crack and peeked out to find the men circling one another, swords in one of their hands.

"Indeed, we do, Monsieur de Chagny. The final battle; to the death." Erik proposed; I grasped my chest, William was a good fighter and so was Erik, but, I didn't like taking chances with him (Erik) he means far too much to me. Something then touched my shoulder; I held my breath and turned, ready to fight, if necessary, only to find a long strand of rope hanging from a hook! Wait a moment...rope...I got an idea.

I pulled the rope down and sat upon the floor twisting it strange ways in attempts to make the noose object that Erik killed M. Devere with all those years ago. Though I was occupied making the noose object, that, by no means, meant I wasn't listening to Erik and William's conversation! "Yes, monsieur, to the death; and when you fall like the behemoth you are, I will take Persephone as my own. In many more ways than one...monsieur." William hissed and my heart skipped a beat; that would most definitely lite Erik's rage, if nothing else.

I peeked out again to see Erik chuckling! "Oh, Monsieur de Chagny, you are wondering why I'm laughing, no? Ah, well, it seems all you cling dearly to are idle fantasies; you see, Persephone and I have lain together already, monsieur, many times. Have you the knowledge she birthed my son? You do?

Then why do you need be so snarky, monsieur? It's not as if you will really claim her as your own; besides, little Persephone does what she fancies and if you are not one of those fancies, you may as well step out of her way." Erik finished; William's eyebrows knitted together in a placid anger. William sighed.

"That isn't the perception I sense from her, monsieur. She runs from me, monsieur, she hides from me, I am dominant." William proclaimed, I rolled my eyes. Erik laughed.

"Oh, monsieur, the only reason she ran and hid was completely because she was thrown under the thought that I was dead." Erik retorted; William nodded and broke the circling, thrusting his sword towards Erik's chest. Erik turned out of the way and sliced William's back; William cried out and whipped around, swinging his arms out, aiming for Erik's neck. Erik ducked and drove his sword into William's stomach; William gasped and his eyes opened to their full extents, his hand shook and he dropped his sword.

Erik grinned.

William fell to his knees and Erik crouched down, then, he ripped the sword out of William's body and stood away. William stared hard at Erik and attempted to cover his wound with his hands, gathering his shirt together and applying pressure. Slowly, I walked out of the closet, clenching the failed attempt at a noose before me; I stood behind Erik, but William saw me, he smiled, it was a slight smile, but a smile nonetheless. William motioned for Erik to come near him, and that is what Erik did, stupidly. William leaned close and, in one swift motion, ripped Erik's mask off!

I gasped and Erik quickly covered the left side of his face; lunging forwards to get his mask back. But, all was in vain, for, William stuck the mask down his trousers; Erik paused and scowled at the dying man. "Turn to your Persephone, monsieur, and see what she thinks of you; see what reconsideration will pass her face when she realizes what she's made love to" William spat, his teeth turning crimson in the process of speaking. However, Erik never turned to me; he only straightened and kept eye contact with William. "Oh, come now, Monsieur Erik, are you afraid?"

Asked William, Erik made no attempts to answer, in speaking's stead, he swung his arm a final time and William's head came rolling to my feet.

(A/N)

Despite the name, this isn't the final chapter (yay!) Anyways, thank you to all who review and continue to review! I know most of you (Aria) have questions, I will answer them after the last chapter is posted (there is no questions, well scratch that, there are not many questions that delve into what I categorize as 'too personal') I have a Tumblr, there are not very many 'too personal' questions! Haha, you may ask what you like; I am completely fine with anything :) And, that, my dear readers, is the end of this chapter; hopefully, if everything goes well, I will manufacture out another chapter of this and a chapter of a Phanfiction I am eager to start!

(I believe this will mark five Phanfictions!)

P.S. if any of you have a Tumblr and would like to RP (role play) with Persephone, my username is littleblondesoprano because, well, I'm short, blonde, and a soprano one. Quite comparable to Leroux!Christine. Au revoir!


	36. I Want My Mummy

_Chapter Thirty Six: I Want My Mummy_

-* The next moments seemed surreal as I stared down into William's lifeless eyes.

His mouth, however, was curved into a smile that sickened me to my core.

I narrowed my eyes and kicked his head with all of my might; his disembodied head flew across the room and hit the wall, flopping to the ground with a dull thud. I heard shuffling footsteps to the right of me and the Persian, Darius, the priest, and little Pierre emerged from a larger closet than mine; peeking their heads around a corner to see what had ensued.

Erik stood straighter than a nail with his hand covering the left side of his face; he was staring dreamily at the space before him, he now closed his eyes and sighed, breaking his nail-like stance and sitting upon a pew. I slowly approached him, dropping the rope on the pew before him and smiling. "He's gone" I said softly; Erik nodded, but said nothing. The entire pew room was silent and the crickets that chirped outside came in an uproar, it seemed; I sighed. "W-We can get married now" I said gently, sitting down on the pew before his and turning to him.

All hope and warmth left his eyes and was replaced by despair.

"Erik, please" I started, the four men came out from behind the corner, but, came no closer to us than that. "Speak to me, angel" I finished; he let out a heavy, heart breaking sigh and tapped his long fingers upon his knee.

"There is nothing to speak of" said he, averting his gaze from me, but, every so often, when I wasn't looking, out of my peripheral vision I would see him steal a glance at me.

"Sure there is" I reassured. "We must talk of what flowers will be at the reception, what type of cake we want, is my dress going to be coloured or white? Who will be the flower gir-"

"Persephone" Erik said calmly, interrupting me. "After you see my face, you will give me my ring back...I know it...you'll wish William was alive again...you'll wish-"

"Rubbish" I said softly, standing and walking over to him, sitting beside him and grasping his free hand with both of mine. "You and I both know that those are complete lies" I added. "Erik you're perfect. You really, truly are; I don't know what confused maniac forced you to believe differently, but I wish that person to rot for the rest of their miserable life because they pushed you into a corner and surrounded you with fables. You are beautiful, Erik, in every sense of the word" I finished, touching the right side of his face and causing him to look at me.

His eyes were glassy and it deeply hurt me to see him so wounded; but, I swore to myself that I would heal him. He sniffled and tightened his grip of my hands. "I love you, Erik, are there is nothing in this world or any other that can undo my love for you; nothing." Said I; Erik nodded slightly and leaned over, gently falling down into my lap, and, hesitantly, his hand slid down from the left side of his face. I smiled as I looked upon his face, it was almost identical to Martha's.

The skin appeared burnt and in many places the flesh was torn open and I could clearly see the muscle underneath. His lip, on the left side, was twice the size of his lip on the right side; his cheekbones were clearly visible and his left eye popped out a bit more than his right. Tears fell down his cheeks as I stared at him; he was ashamed! Ashamed to be under my gaze fully exposed. I placed both hands on each of his cheeks.

"Beautiful" I whispered, choking down sobs; it seemed, as I aged it seemed my emotions were evoked easier. Erik now sat up with an extinguished expression and wiped my tears away.

"I've made you cry.." he whispered, I shook my head quickly.

"No, no, I'm just...emotional as of late" I said; hesitantly, he reached out and almost touched my cheek, curling his fingers back into the palm of his hand before I could feel the warmth of his hand upon my face. He breathed shakily and pulled his hands back into his lap; he was facing away from Pierre, and to me, now, I decided to do something quite unorthodox. "Erik, look at me" I said, as I wiped my tears away; he glanced up to me and I smiled then, I jumped into his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his lips to mine and holding him there. He gave a weak smile through my lips and gradually cloaked his arms around my torso; but I was the one to hold us together.

A few stray tears fell from his eyes in the midst of the kiss, but I wouldn't let him go. Not until he knew how much I loved him.

It was moments later, when my lungs were wailing and blazing that I finally freed his irregularly shaped lips and kissed down his cheek until I met his neck; where I kissed until I accosted the angle of his neck and stopped, holding him close and lightly rocking from side to side.

For around an hour Erik and I remained holding each other and whispering softly to each other; he wouldn't allow me to break the hug. When we both decided the hug was over we stood and Erik hesitantly turned to Pierre; hoping he would have the same reaction as I.

He most certainly did not.

Pierre had never been exposed to anyone who remotely had a disfiguration close to Erik's, and so, when he saw Erik, he screamed. He screamed and ran before me, picking up the rope as he did so; his eyes narrowed and he shoved me away from Erik. "Get away from my mummy, you monster!" He yelled, fashioning the rope into what he called a 'Punjab Lasso'.

"Pierre!" I cried, attempting to push the child out of my way. "That is your father!" I added.

"No, he's not! This man is an imposter! Father doesn't look like that, come, mummy, stay behind me; he might be dangerous." Pierre said, I rolled my eyes and tried to step past Pierre, but he shoved me back again, this time, harder. I fell down between the pews and, although I didn't get the air knocked out of me, the back of my head smacked the ground and I was at once plagued with a brain-splitting headache.

"My love!" Erik cried, hurrying forwards, but Pierre forced him back.

"You _will not_ touch my mummy!" Pierre yelled.

"He_ is_ your father, Pierre! _That's Erik_!" I shrieked, pointing to my fiancé. Pierre shook his head and a tear fell from Erik's eye.

"Even my child think's I'm a monster" said he, he sat down upon the pew and I stood, sitting upon the pew and moving towards him; Pierre jumped between us.

"Pierre Augustus, if you sit between us one more time you will be grounded; that is your father, he is Erik. Now, please, god, Pierre, move." I growled; I had never had to threaten Pierre by grounding before, come to think of it, I had never been forced to take anything away from Pierre. He was a good, sweet, honest child; I understood his worries, but, why wouldn't he just trust me?

"But, mummy, _he's not father_. He can't be! Father doesn't have...whatever that is upon that man's face!" Pierre cried; I sighed.

"Pierre, remember how you always asked mummy why father wore the mask?" I asked, Pierre nodded and then realization passed over his face and, quite hesitantly, Pierre turned to his father, who stared at him longingly. Pierre shook his head and got down off of the pew, still shaking his head he ran off, out of the church. "Pierre!" I cried, started to jog after him; Erik, however, grasped my wrist.

"Let him go, my angel; he needs time to think things over." Said he.

"But, Erik, he could get abducted or trampled...that's my baby running out there!" I said, grasping his hands.

"I know, Persephone, he's mine too, remember?" Erik asked delicately, pulling me back into his arms and placing his chin upon the top of my head. "We just need to give him some time, he'll come back, he won't stay away from his mummy that long" Erik finished, faintly pressing his lips to the top of my cranium.

-* We didn't get married.

Not that night, anyways.

Erik still had to plan more of the wedding since it was on hold for such an extended amount of time.

And, he still wouldn't let me plan anything.

We returned to the Palais Garnier with Darius carting along William's body, but, we kept his head in a bag and joked on the way home that he was Medusa and whoever looked at him would, in stead of turning to stone, turn into a coxcomb such as he (Erik changed the stone-to-coxcomb thing). All the way back to the Palais Garnier I looked out for Pierre, but he was nowhere to be found; Erik patted my hand and assured that he was more than likely back in our home.

Erik held his hand before the left side of his face as we walked in public; there was no way he would wear a mask that had been down his enemy's trousers.

-* Darius threw both the Viscount's body and head into the lake before our home, attaching weights to both so we would never see Monsieur William again. When we actually stepped into our home upon the lake Erik, the Persian, Darius and I searched the entire house, (Erik searched all the hidden tunnel ways and trap doors) but we all came up with naught.

-Three days later-

-* "Oh, Erik, he's not home yet!" I cried, sitting on the couch and biting my nails as Erik sat at his desk that he moved into the living area; he was working on an opera he named 'Don Juan Triumphant' but, he would never play it for me. He said it entirely encompassed all the miserable feelings of his past and that I did not need to hear it; it would only sadden me.

"He'll be home soon" said Erik, biting his pen and searching over the music sheets.

"It's been three days, Erik!" I yelled, standing from the couch and pacing in anxiousness. Erik sighed and placed his pen down, turning to me with a fatigued expression; he rubbed his face.

"He'll be back, don't worry. I did the same thing when I was younger, but, I came back; he'll come back, lovely, don't worry. He will" Erik assured, standing and hugging me; ever since we returned from the church Erik doesn't wear his mask, save, for when we go out in public (of course he has more than one mask!) I sighed and buried my head in his chest; if only Pierre knew how precious he was to me, maybe he wouldn't have ran. Maybe...maybe if I had-

"Stop, princess. Stop doubting yourself; it was not you that caused his flight. It was himself, he needed to think over some things; I bet you he'll be back to-night." Said Erik, pausing my thoughts, my brows furrowed; how did he know what I was thinking? Erik laughed at my expression.

"I'm no psychic, Persephone, however, I do know how to read facial expressions; even when they're partly hidden from my view" he explained; I nodded and kissed his chest. I loved him so much.

It had been so quiet in our home without Pierre, it felt like a happiness had been ripped from it and now all there was in the house was dismal silence (and Erik occasionally melancholishly playing the organ). I tried to fill my hours doing things to keep me occupied (besides, I had to go to dance and vocal rehearsals, I was quite busy), I drew, I sang, I made so many pastries that both Erik and I couldn't eat them all without gaining at least thirty pounds each. I read, and I sat at Erik's organ, randomly tapping the keys.

The next day, (Sunday) I vowed I would search all day and night for Pierre until the clock struck midnight. But, as I rose that morning and fetched the paper from my old bedroom (the page boy delivered our mail and the newspaper to that room) I discovered that my search was over.

I screamed in horror as I saw my little Pierre sitting in a cage without a shirt and scars covering his body, his trousers were ripped up to shorts, his hair was almost all cut off and dirt covered him. Beneath his wonderfully yellow eyes were dark, black circles and across his right cheek ran a deep scar; the mark of a whip. His torso mimicked mine from a week beforehand; when I was under William's captivity; his ribs were clearly visible and a iron collar laid around his neck.

My legs gave out from underneath me and I can't even begin to describe to you how much contempt I held against myself for not chasing after him that night in the church; how a giant ball of sadness, greater than the size of the world, swelled inside of my chest and burst threw my eyes. Causing the ink of the words on the paper to bleed into one another; however the sub-headline that sat neatly beneath Pierre's picture wasn't touched by my anguish.

_'I Want My Mummy' _


	37. Bring Him Home

_Chapter Thirty Seven: Bring Him Home_

-* Erik, somehow, heard my screams and came running through the door; he fell down to his knees with me and yanked my face away from the paper. I grasped onto him and sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder; he says I whispered "my baby" over and over.

Then, he saw the newspaper that caused my breakdown.

"No.." he whispered lifting it from my ground and gently shaking his head. "No...no...not my son..." he added, but, this time his whispers where hinted with anger. He stood now, but I remained on the floor, in fetal position, crying my eyes out. There was the ripping of paper and I saw, through muddled vision, paper shreds rain over me; Erik turned away and began taking his anger out on the wall. Punching and kicking it viciously.

I paused my weeping and shakily stood, stumbling over to Erik, who caught me without a second thought. His knuckles bled, but, I knew, by the look in his eyes that his blood would not be the only one spilt in the next few days.

-* The very next day Erik and I were inquiring about it; Erik said it was a gypsy camp that had our son, he said he even knew which one it was. "How do you know this?" I asked, clinging to his arm; he sighed.

"Because, I recognized that cage." He whispered, I grasped his hand tightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked quickly; he sighed.

"It means, that your fiancé was stuck in the same situation as our son" he hissed impatiently; he grasped my hand with terrible strength and dragged me to the newspaper shop to interview the person who took the picture of our son.

-* Erik was a giant ball of anger when we arrived, his grip was so tight I feared he might break my bones! He yelled at the receptionist who told us who took the picture. "Monsieur John B-Banks, monsieur" the receptionist said in a shaking voice; I mouthed 'thank you' as Erik tore me away from the man.

Erik slammed his hands down on John Banks's desk; silencing the entire room, but, he didn't mind, his eyes were too full of rage to see it. "Where in the hell is my son?" Erik growled.

"E-Excuse me?" John asked in a weak tone.

"My son" Erik hissed "where is he?" Erik demanded, grasping the man by the cuff of his shirt and holding him up to his face. John gave a nervous chuckle.

"U-Um, monsieur, it would be...j-just a little more helpful if I uh...knew what you were talking about" John answered; Erik threw John back into his chair so hard John flipped over it!

"My son" Erik enunciated. "The child you took a picture of, the one at the gypsy camp" Erik finished; the man's face fell.

"And...you two are his parents" he said in understanding, nodding. "He told me much of you two, mostly of how you loved each other even though...even though and, I quote 'my father's not the most perfect man, or the most handsome, but, mummy thinks so; mummy kissed him so deeply even when his biggest flaws were revealed. She loves him. A-And she loves me too, I just...I just want my mummy.'" John said, tears welled in my eyes and wrapped myself around Erik's arm; Erik sighed.

"I didn't come to ask what he said, I want to know where he is so we can take him home." Said he, calming from his anger and kissing the top of my head; he whispered calming words to me and hugged me, promising me it would be alright. Erik pressed me against his chest and laid his cheek upon the top of my head; now I spoke to this John man.

"Please, monsieur, please help us. He's our only son" I whispered, tears streaming down my cheeks; Erik wiped them away and kissed me. John sighed and nodded.

"Of course, who am I to deny two loving, wonderful parents?" Said he, I grasped Erik's wrists and John grasped a small, red notebook and flipped through a few pages; giving a cry of discovery and pointing to a few words. "They were in L'Oudon and are moving to Mezidon-Canon" John replied; I looked hopelessly up to Erik.

"That's so far away from here!" I cried, Erik nodded.

"I know, my angel" said he, he then turned to John and thanked him, holding me and hurrying out of the newspaper shop; he helped me into a carriage and jumped in afterwards. "Ready for a long drive, angel?" Asked he, I only grunted; he grinned and pulled me into his lap, sighing.

-* Three hours. Three hours we sat in that carriage; I fell asleep on Erik and drooled on his suit! But, he didn't mind; he said he thought it was cute.

When we stepped out of the carriage I saw tents, different multicoloured tents! It was like a rainbow vomited. Farm animals roamed the land freely and strange, mocha skinned people stood in small huddles, telling jokes, stories, speaking casually, or speaking of Erik and I. Erik held tight to me and warned me. "Do not dare wander off, these people will take advantage of you at a moment's notice, stay close to me" said he.

"That won't be a problem" I retorted, Erik smiled down to me quickly and then back up to the path before us. Upon noticing us the gypsies began whispering to one another and giving us hateful glances; I held even tighter to Erik.

-* The tents were formed in a large circle with one giant stage in the midst of it, and, behind that was a fire hole with logs surrounding that. Erik took me straight to a red tent to the left of the fire hole, to a dark red tent labeled 'The Living Corpse'. I paused and Erik attempted to pull me inside. "What's wrong, love?" Asked he.

"What is this place?" I asked in disbelief and horror. He sighed.

"Where I lived for most of my pre-teenage years; come, our son is in here." Said he, grasping my hand and shooting a glare to all the gypsies who dared come near. I stepped softly inside only to hear a grown man's yelling and a boy's screams mixed with the crack of a whip. I grasped Erik's arm, he only gritted his teeth, but continued walking forwards with me.

"Oh my god..." I whispered as my hand flew to my mouth when I saw a sight that cannot be unseen. It was my son, my son was bent down, on his hands and knees, stripped naked before a large, hideous, man who reeked of spirits; tears were streaming down little Pierre's face, and he whispered my name.

"Mummy can't help you now!" The man cried, laughing and hitting my son harder; I felt something well up inside of me, call it courage, call it anger. But I like to think of it as motherly instincts.

I ran forwards, away from Erik's protection, and ripped my arm back, forcing all of my strength into a single fist and connecting it with the man's face; I even felt a few of his bones crack! The man fell backwards and Pierre flopped to the ground; I fell with the man and continuously wailed on his face, punching, clawing, biting and kicking on anything I could that would put the man through heavy amounts of pain. The man grasped me and threw me to the ground, rolling onto me and grinning; when he did this I kicked his manhood so hard I bet he could've tasted my heel! "That's my son, you bastard" I growled, before spotting a knife laying happily on a small table; I yanked this to my side and wrapped both of my hands around the handle, thrusting it into his enormous gut so many times I lost count! Next, I sliced and diced at his neck, sinking the knife into the flab of his chin and through his head.

A smooth, dark red liquid was thrown all over my nice dress as I stabbed the man. He choked and gagged and squirmed beneath me; but I would not let him go. I stood and sliced his manhood off, taking it up and shoving it so far down his mouth I couldn't see it anymore! I paused for a moment and the man groaned, so, I continued diving the knife into his blubberish body; then, I threw the knife behind me and wrapped my small hands around his throat. A few times my hands slipped into the cuts I had previously made, but I drew them out and stood, stomping down on his neck with my foot.

It seemed I expanded all of the anger and hatred the world had to offer upon that man, and yet, to this day, I have no regrets.

Erik rushed over to me and pulled me away from the corpse; he held my shoulders. "He's dead, angel, he's dead; he won't touch Pierre anymore." He assured, whilst I had been playing momma lion, Erik retrieved our son and clothed him, holding him and turning his face away from the carnage which I forced upon his kidnapper.

I nodded and turned away from Erik, to Pierre and fell to my knees, squishing his body to mine. "I love you, Pierre, I love you so much, don't you dare, ever do that again!" I cried, kissing his cheeks.

"I won't, mummy" Pierre said, hugging me with trembling arms.

-* I was covered, from head to foot, in blood or blood splatter. It clumped in my hair, stained my face and arms and hands, soiled my clothing, and I tasted it's iron tang upon my tongue. As we walked back to the carriage, the gypsies stayed a good distance away from us, holding their noses in disgust.

Erik carried Pierre and I walked beside my men. "Pierre?" Erik asked.

"Yes, father?" Asked he, glancing up to him.

"Why did you ask for your mother and not I?"

"Oh, that's easy, father. Because I knew she would do that" Pierre answered, grinning to me. I smiled and kissed his little cheek, leaving a blood stained kiss which looked everything like lipstick.

_**(A/N)**_

_**Sorry if this chapter was a bit crappy, I'm exhausted and I wanted to get another one out; since it's been a while since I've touched Persephone's Angel. What, four days now? I dunno. Rehearsal is killing me. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed Persephone going berserk :)**_

_**(For those who are wondering, I'm going to explain who 'the man' raping Pierre was in the next chapter :) for those of you who've read the Kay, you have an advantage! Haha) Au Revoir, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter in my sleep-deprived state! **_


	38. Little Black Book

_Chapter Thirty Eight: Little Black Book_

-* Within moments, it seemed, we were back in our home upon the lake, sitting peacefully in the Louis-Philippe room; staring at each other. Then, Pierre jumped down from his seat and ran to me again, hugging me despite the dried blood. "Mummy and daddy won't ever leave you, alright? Now, you must promise to do the same" said I, holding him away; he nodded quickly.

"I sware I won't, not ever again!" He cried, squirming back onto my lap and hugging me tightly; almost to the point of asphyxiation! I wrapped my arms around his torso and held him, not as tightly as he held me, however.

"Go hug your father" I whispered into his ear; he nodded and mercifully let go, hurrying over to Erik and squeezing him tightly. I smiled, those were my men.

My men.

No one would hurt them, or I would be sure to not just play mummy lion.

But Satan as well.

-* I left to take a bath and Erik slowly followed me; he liked to take baths with me, though, he would often fall asleep in the middle of them. Usually, I took that opportunity to make a bubble beard or something to that equivalent upon his face. But, by the time we were both in the bath and I laid on his chest, the door opened and Pierre hurried inside! I gasped in surprise and Erik shielded me ever more from our son's innocent eyes. "Pierre!

What's the matter?" Erik asked quickly, holding his arm around me.

"I-I was alone...and...I got scared. I-I heard noises, a-and I thought they were coming for me again" said he nervously, stumbling over his words and biting his bottom lip; a habit which he picked up from carefully observing me, no doubt.

"Oh, sweetie.." I whispered; I glanced up to Erik and Pierre came further into the WC, sitting upon the ground near the small sink. Erik sighed and stood, forcing me to cover myself; he then stepped out of the tub and dried, pulling on a pair of fresh clothes and turning to Pierre.

"Come, let us leave mummy to take her bath; god knows she needs one" said he, I scowled at him and he winked to me as he opened the door for Pierre and followed after him. I smiled and glanced down, he was right.

The water that I sat in was a muted wine colour, and, my pale skin contrasted this, causing me to see even more bleached than I actually was! I sighed and, as I washed myself, I thought of Pierre's reaction and his barging in; regularly, Pierre would never do that. Pierre knew boundaries and was a complete gentleman, mimicking his father; however, I realized that this episode traumatized him, and, rightfully so! I held my head and felt the soap that clung to my hair squish against the side of the tub, I knew I would have to have a heart-to-heart with little Pierre and tell him about my incident. Then, Erik and I would talk him through it, and, if we couldn't do that, we would hire a therapist and take him often on fun days of being in the park and cuddle together at night; before going to bed.

But, first, Erik and I needed to know what happened.

-* I got out of the bath and Pierre sat at the little table in the Louis Philippe room, writing something down in a small, black book. Erik was sat on the couch, massaging his forehead and rubbing his right eye; his left was covered by his mask, which, he refused to remove before Pierre. As I walked closer to the threshold Pierre's head snapped to attention and his eyes were wild with fear; I smiled pitifully when I saw him, and, when he saw me, he relaxed his shoulders and back and his eyelids drooped again. "Mummy, we were just speaking of you! Well, more like father was blathering on about how beautifully your eyes sparkle in the stage lights but...same difference" said Pierre, I laughed and sat down on the couch, next to Erik.

A weary grin painted upon his face.

He was visibly exhausted.

He groaned and leaned down, placing his head upon my lap and allowing my fingers to run through his hair; getting stuck once or twice on a small knot here or there. "What's he writing about?" I asked Erik in a whisper; Erik rubbed his eyes.

"What happened to him; he desists saying what ensued. He says he can't, he physically can't." Erik explained, my face fell in misery and Erik nodded. I sighed.

"Let me speak to him; I know what he's been through. Well, at least, the very end; I can empathize with him." Said I, Erik smiled and sat back up, kissing me as he did.

"Mummy to the rescue" he said, kissing my nose and leaning back on the couch; I stood and sat before Pierre, smiling.

"Hello, my son." I started; I didn't exactly know how to empathize with him, I just knew to tell him my story, and let him know that I understand. Pierre smiled to me and paused his writing; setting down his pen in his book and pushing it away from him. "Sweetie...sweetie I wanted to tell you that...that I understand what you're feeling and what's happened to you. Believe it or not I was in a similar situation, your father knows too, he had to help me work through it."

Said I, motioning to Erik with my head; Pierre turned to Erik who nodded.

"What happened to you, mummy?" Asked Pierre, turning back to me and moving closer to me, grasping my hands as if to offer support and comfort. I smiled and plucked this very diary out of a drawer; flipping to the correct page and reading what was written aloud. I didn't need the diary as to remind me of the incident, but, I only used it as an aid to get all of the details correct; by the end of my tale Pierre's hand was over his mouth and tears were spilling from his eyes. "Mummy...I..." he whispered, coming even closer to me and holding me to him; kissing my cheeks.

"I love you, mummy, I love you; I'm so sorry you had to go through that...I wish I would've been there..." said he, fading off into a faint whisper; I smiled.

"I don't know if I would've been able to handle it, my son! Having meddlesome little you around and Erik? My, you two would drive me absolutely mental!" I cried, laughing; Pierre smiled and I looked over to Erik to find that he was dead asleep; drool running down his arm. I smiled and quieted Pierre for a moment, only to hear the adorable little blender start up!

I giggled and Pierre laughed also; Erik's snores were a wonderful cause of happiness.

-* In an hour's time, Pierre was almost finished with his novel of a story and I put Erik to bed. Pierre laid in his small bed beside ours and was asleep within moments; I stood before the slumbering men and spotted Pierre's book, which I snatched up and sat down at Erik's organ with, turning to the first page and devouring the words:

_My story. _

_I couldn't believe it when mummy told me that the disfigured man she kissed was father, and I panicked, I ran as fast as I could, away from them. That couldn't have been my father! He was probably back at the Palais Garnier, composing, like he normally is. But, when I was running a cab slowed down beside me and a fat man hung out of the window; he laughed and I paused, I was so out of breath! "Hey kid!"_

_He yelled at me "need a lift?" Asked he; I nodded to the best of my ability and he laughed again, opening the door in a friendly manner and allowing me inside. "Where ya headed?" Asked the man. _

_"Palais...Palais Garnier" I heaved out; the man smiled and turned to me, then, his whole attitude changed. Mummy has often told me that my eyes resemble my father's and, I've seen them for myself, for some reason, they turn yellow at night! Father says it runs in our family, but, after seeing his face, I'm convinced that I got a faulty chromosome or something. Still, the man stared at me like I was a freak, and then smiled. But, this wasn't an ordinary smile, like mummy's; no, this smile was wicked, evil, scary._

_I had never seen anyone smile like that before. It was so evil I couldn't have even imagined it!_

_Anyways, he smiled and then stood up and spoke out of a small window in the roof of the carriage for a moment; I heard the driver agree and snap the reins on the horses, and I don't believe horses have ever ran faster! Even when mummy drove the carriage I was in when we were attempting to escape from William! The man continued smiling wickedly at me the entire carriage ride, which was around two hours long! Once, I attempted to leave it, when it was moving! The man grasped me and struck my face, once, twice, three times! _

_I was so dizzied I couldn't move from the ground, and the continuous up and down motion of the running horses didn't help much. So, I was unconscious-_

My reading was disrupted when I accidently leaned back and placed my elbow on a key of Erik's organ. Both men shot up as fast as a cork shoots out of a champagne bottle!

I was caught.

"M-Mummy? What are you doing with my book?" Pierre asked gently; my mouth dried and I sighed, my cheeks heated until they burnt pink and I closed his little book.

"Reading it" I responded, tapping the cover of the book.

"But...mummy, I wasn't finished with it...I don't want you to read it until it's finished" said he; I nodded and found that he stood before me, he snatched his book back and hurried back into the cocoon of warmth that was his bed, staring at me suspiciously.

Erik laid back down and threw the covers off of him, patting the bed; I sighed and walked to the bed, pulling the covers up to my shoulders and hiding my shameful blush. Erik pulled me to his chest and kissed the top of my head. "Don't worry, lovely, I did the same thing" he whispered, winking drowsily.


	39. First Fight

_Chapter Thirty Nine: First Fight_

-* Erik, in the next few days, sat upon his very last nerve.

He was agitated, and flustered, but he told me not why. He only stomped around, lashing out at us.

Alas, it was true, Erik took back up the position as vocal director and pushed us to the very fibers of our being. Even I, he didn't let up on!

Pierre usually came to rehearsal with Erik and I (and was adored by all of the cast members, he was a 'ladies man' if you will) and sat in the first row to watch us. It was one strangely cold day in September and I hadn't seen Erik the entirety of the day! However, when he arrived into the auditorium for practice there was a sour expression tattooed upon his face; as if he smelt something especially distasteful. The ballet and chorus girls were beginning to warm up to him, through my doing, but they kept their distance; they didn't want a repeat of when he tore of his mask. Speaking of his face/mask, I didn't think it was that bad, in fact, I liked it; I liked it much better than the mask he stuck over it, anyways.

Anyways, getting back to the story, Erik lead us through warm ups, his mood not changing an inch. And, when we began to sing, he sat in a chair before us, and scowled at each and every one of us! Even me! I'm not writing that to sound self-absorbed, but, I was his fiancé and, normally he loved it when I sang, now he scowled and his eyes spat venom at me when I opened my mouth. He stopped me after the first measure.

"Persephone, sweetie" he started, giving a overly-obvious fake smile. "It's higher in pitch, my love, open your mouth wider" said he, I nodded "and" he continued "when you're singing place your hands by your sides, not before you, not behind you, _to your sides_." He continued, then he turned to the rest of the girls "and that goes as a general note" he hissed, finishing. He nodded to me. "Begin again, lovely" he commanded, I nodded and began again; this time, he didn't stop me until my sixth measure.

"Honey" he growled, rubbing the sides of his temples "diction, _diction_! I can't understand what you're saying, sing loud and proud, don't stop that, but, I need to be able to _hear the words_" he paused. "Begin again" he finished, I sighed and did so; he stopped me on the twelfth measure. He was rubbing his face, and, I knew that in that head of his, trouble was stewing. "Persephone, I know you can reach that note; I know_ for sure_ you can! Believe me, my ears have been subject to it more than once; go higher" he ordered.

"But, angel, you see, I must, immediately afterwards, go quite low and I don't know if-"

"If you can hit it?" Erik growled, narrowing his eyes at me.

"N-No, I just don't know if I'll have the_ time_ to hit it" I explained; but, Erik would hear none of it in his strange state.

"You don't think you would have time to hit it?" He laughed "La Carlotta could hit it in time, Christine could hit it in time; what makes you so entirely special so that you cannot hit it in time?" He hissed; plunging his hands into his pockets and strolling over to me. This was entirely out of character for him! Had he been possessed? I stared at him in wonder for a moment before answering.

"I-I don't find myself special at all, angel, but they're playing the song in four-four time, when it clearly states it should be in three-four time." I explained, pointing to where it so stated that on the song sheet. By this time, Erik was a ticking time bomb, and I should've seen it, I should've kept my mouth shut and went faster, but, no, I didn't. It was because he was usually so patient with me and waited upon me hand and foot, and now, when he had no patience to spare, I couldn't adapt to this behavior; I don't believe anyone fully could in a matter of moments. Erik turned away from me and continuously smoothed his hair down, tugging at the cloth of his sleeves and stamping his left foot in spite; he threw himself back at me and caused me to drop the song sheet.

"You do! You find yourself so special and everyone must wait patiently for the Queen, huh? Everyone! Oh, chorus girls, bow down before Queen Persephone! Now, go hop on one foot and pat your head!"

Erik screamed, turning his fury towards the chorus girls. "Erik! This attitude is completely uncalled for, and, before Pierre! Calm down, angel!" I cried, grasping his hands; his hands tightened around mine to the point where I was whimpering in pain.

"Erik, please, stop!" I cried, he only stared harder at me. "Erik, _please_, it hurts!" I continued; now, he threw my hands back to me.

"Sing the notes, or you are cut" he hissed, his face an inch from mine.

"You can't do that" I said, gently massaging my hands and knuckles.

"Oh, but I can, baby" he growled, he smiled and poked my nose; turning away and clapping everyone to attention. "Sing it again! And, this time, _sing it right_" said he, pointing to me. I sang it to the best of my ability with the time, and almost hit the notes, but I knew, by Erik's reaction, that I hadn't hit them quite the way he imagined me to. He threw down his song book and papers flew everywhere; pausing my voice, Erik advanced upon me and the chorus girls made a U shape before me; as I've said before, we're protective of each other.

"Monsieur" Cindy started, she was a new chorus girl with a brave attitude, she was married and was attempting to have her first child and she told me that she looked to me as an idol; I was tickled, I didn't find myself the idol type! "She's giving it all she has, she's been out of practice for quite some time and she's hitting the note; the band is playing entirely too fast. And, it's not fair how you're treating her, monsieur, fiancé or not; you cannot treat a woman in such a manner. Isn't that why Monsieur Devere took a permanent_ 'holiday'_ in the first place? Since he hurt Persephone and critiqued her voice to shreds?"

Cindy said, I was shocked at her words; she basically verbally slapped Erik across the cheek! Erik stood for a moment and just breathed, processing what she said; his shoulders rose and his hands clasped into fists, I grasped Cindy and yanked her back, placing myself before her and grabbing onto Erik's shoulders. "Erik, honey, sweetie, calm down; just calm down" I whispered, staring at him, but he looked past me; his eyes chained and locked upon Cindy. Finally, I grasped the back of his head and pushed it to mine, connecting our lips and I walked sideways, turning him away from the chorus girls and attempting to focus his attention upon me. It was tough to continuously keep him turned towards the auditorium seats; he was a very strong man and I was weak woman, he could easily overpower me, but he half way returned to his senses and kissed me, gently caressing the skin of my neck with his lips.

As he did this I mouthed for the girls to leave and, that is what they did, they ran away to a dressing room and quickly closed the door.

Erik chuckled when he heard the door slam shut. He knew what I did.

He kissed my neck once more and faced me; there was something in his eyes, something off, something wild; and it caused me to wonder what he had been doing. I thought of his symptoms; he was tired all the time, angry, and, as of a few days ago, extremely languid; something was wrong with my angel of music.

Terribly wrong.

"Angel" I started "you're not acting as you usually do; is everything alright?" I asked, he smiled.

"Why can't you sing that note?" Asked he, I paused.

"I...I don't know" I replied, Erik grinned.

"There's your answer" he explained, and in that moment I decided that Erik maybe, just maybe, needed to see a therapist...then again...maybe we all needed therapy. God knows we've been through enough to need it.

"I just want to help you, angel" said I before Erik turned, then, he turned upon his heel back to me and advanced upon me, but I did not move.

"You _really_ want to help me? Then sing the note right!" He cried; I closed my eyes and sighed, I was getting tired of this 'note' business. Then, he gave me his song book and struck up the band once more; I lost count around how many times I sang that one measure! Finally, when Erik had enough, he kicked a drum, causing his foot to go through it and then he threw the drum into the audience kicking his chair that he once sat in and throwing it backstage; he was having a meltdown.

Now, he set his sights on me once more; he grasped my arms tightly, his eyes savage with rage, and addressed me through gritted teeth which were so hard pressed upon each other I thought they would crack and shatter into pieces all over me! "You wanted to be better than Christine, you wanted to be my number one, you wanted to soar higher than an E6; but now I realize, you'll never be as good as Christine, _never_. I'm only in love with you because you love me, I mean, my god are you beautiful and sweet, and intelligent! But, my god! Sometimes, you irritate the living hell out of me!"

He yelled, he paused and began again. "Your voice will never even be comparable to her angelic voice; sure god may listen in upon your performance, but Christine calls upon the angels and they themselves descend and lift every person listening to her up to the heavens." He pushed me away and I stumbled, falling upon the stage and staring up at him with hot tears dripping down my face. He only shook his head and stomped off; cursing his way down to our home upon the lake.

-* No one was in the auditorium at that time, not a single person. Pierre had left with the chorus girls and the orchestra hurried out only moments after Erik stuck his foot through the drum. I stared down at my beautiful golden ring laden with diamonds; our ring, our engagement ring. The very ring I found in my ice cream that wonderful day we were together and he bought me the music box; I didn't know what to do with it now. With sobs choking me and shaking hands I slipped the ring off of my marriage finger and let it fall into a pocket in my dress, and, I did all I knew how to do at this point, I fell down, face first upon the stage and cried until it felt as if my very soul escaped my body.

-* For hours, no one came out of anywhere and I remained the only one in the auditorium, it was midnight when I finally stood and made my way to the opera boxes. I trudged, wiping fresh tears from my cheeks, up to box five and pushed it open, closing the door (and locking it) and closing the curtains; eliminating any light that was to come into the box. I laid down upon the ground and curled into a ball; there was no way I was going down to the cellars to face Erik again, something was terribly wrong with him, or, that was a real him and he had been pretending to love me all of those years. This theory caused me to let out horribly loud sobs and a small knock to tap against the door. "G-Go away" I whispered to the best of my ability.

"But, I don't want to go away, mummy. I want to go inside, I want a hug" said he in a meager voice. I sniffled; I couldn't see him right now, I couldn't see anyone. I didn't want my child to see me cry, and, he looked so terribly similar to Erik...he acted so terribly similar to Erik; there was a severe pain in my chest and my right arm went numb, my fingers froze into icicles and my breathing came in quick bursts. Which was not made any easier by the sobs that were glued to my throat. "Mummy...please" Pierre said, trying the handle on the door again.

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry, my son" I sobbed; I heard his little feet pad away and I was alone again, I whimpered and rolled onto my side, why the hell was my life so wrong? Why was I put through these trials? What had I done to piss off god?

**_(A/N)_**

**_Okay, party people, I'm actually crying right now because feels. Anyways, again, to you Kay readers, you know what I'm hinting at with Erik's rash behavior! (Sorry, I didn't get through with my promise, I will in the next few chapters...? No promises, I actually forgot about that before writing this chapter...heh heh.) And, if my dating is not correct about September, I'm sorry, I'm tired and I don't want to do math, scream at me, yell at me, I don't care. _**

**_Oh! And, to mademoiselle Aria: ONCE WE KNOW THAT WE'RE ALL STARS AND WE SEE THAT WE'RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER AND IT SHOWS WHEN WE STAND, HAND IN HAND, MAKE OUR DREAMS COME TRUUUUUEEEE! _**

**_Thought I forgot about that, didn't ya? *Wink, nudge, nudge* _**


	40. Little Black Book (Continued)

_Chapter Forty: Little Black Book (Continued)_

-* Apparently, I had fallen asleep inside box five for I remember nothing more of that night.

I woke groggy, but, in my own bed! I sat up and glanced around to see that, indeed, I was in Erik and my bedroom; though, Erik, nor Pierre sat inside. I didn't know what to do, should I get up and face Erik again? Part of me didn't want to, I didn't want to know what became of us, I just wanted to remain his; we were so close to being married, so close! What had made him go mental like that?

I had no time to wonder this, for, I heard his step outside of the door, coming closer. And, I decided upon doing on thing; acting. I fell back into the bed and threw the covers around my shoulders, shutting my eyes quickly and waiting for a moment before the door opened. "She's been asleep for an awfully long time, father, do you think she's hurt?" Pierre asked in a whisper to Erik. Erik sighed and answered in a melancholic tone.

"Not physically, my son...not physically. Go wake her, shake her gently and give her plenty of kisses; when you're done father needs you to leave us for a few moments, okay?" Erik asked, and there was silence for a few moments.

"Father?" Pierre asked, still in a whisper.

"Yes?"

"Why were you so angry at mummy yesterday?" Asked Pierre, Erik hesitated before answering.

"That's what we need to talk about, my son; go wake her, sweetly now." Erik ordered; moments after I felt his little hands touch my back and he began pressing down upon it and not, and pressing down upon it and not. He was giving me a massage!

"Muuummy? Muuummy? It's time to get up now" said Pierre as gently as he could, kissing my cheeks and hugging me. I smiled and wrapped my arms around him, holding him close. "Good morning, mummy" said he as I opened my eyes once more.

"Good morning, my little Pierre" I said softly; Pierre looked over to his father who stood in the doorway, and hopped out of the bed, telling me he loved me and then walking out of the room. I sat up and stared at Erik who shut the door behind our son; he wouldn't turn around to me for a while. When he did, however, he appeared...scared...terrified, in fact! He sat down upon the bed, next to me and held my hand; kissing it a few times. Though no tears filled his eyes, his voice shook and he had to clear his throat multiple times.

"Angel, please put back on your ring" said he, finally. I dug in my pocket and pulled out the ring, only holding it.

"Tell me why you went mental yesterday and I will" said I; Erik sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"You will think less of me if I do" said I; I grasped his arm and touched his face, turning it towards me.

"Do you _actually_ think I will? You know I can't think anything but the universe of you! You are the love of my life; do you understand how much it hurt me when you said those things to me? Because, I don't think you do...you promised that you would never compare me to Christine and I would never leave you; never. I still plan on never leaving you, only if your love wasn't real...if it wasn't real then I'll leave; but I'm taking Pierre if I do-"

"Oh, please! Please, Persephone, don't speak that way!" Erik cried; lunging forwards and wrapping himself around my waist. "I love you, baby, I love you; I love you so much. You are the light of my life and I would never dream of leaving you; never!"

He cried, hugging my arm. I was so confused! One moment he was madly in love with me, and, the next, he wanted to cut me from the opera! "What is the matter with you lately?" I asked and he sighed, gently rubbing my hand.

"When I was...younger I stayed in Persia" he started "and when I was in Persia I became addicted to smoking a thing called a hookah; and, when I figured out it might hurt my vocal chords, I stopped. When I moved to Paris, however, I discovered morphine which, I was highly addicted to; I almost overdosed twice. Anyways, a few weeks ago, everything was going to hell and...I...I found the box." Erik paused and I leaned forwards, grasping his arms. "I had been taking it for a while, and then I upped my dosage and I became angry, extremely angry, at everything and everyone; I should've stayed here..." he whispered.

I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly. "We'll get you off of it again, don't worry, angel, we will. I'll do everything in my power to get you off of it." Said I, kissing his ear; he hugged me and buried his face into my shoulder; he was shaking and wouldn't let go of me until Pierre opened the door again, announcing it had been two hours since he left and he became worried about us.

Erik wouldn't look at Pierre, hell, he could barely face me! I looked to Erik and sighed. "Alright, the first step of coming clean is over, you've admitted your problem. Now, the next step is to tell me where it is" said I; Erik paused several times before finally leading me to a rectangular, black box on the mantle in the Louis-Philippe room. I opened it up and sure enough, the needle had been recently used and the morphine smelt quite fresh; I closed the box again and kissed Erik's cheek, patting his back, painted on Pierre's face was the expression of confusion.

"It's nothing, my son, just know that mummy and daddy will be getting married very soon" said I, Pierre grinned and smiled up to Erik.

-* I took the morphine and flushed it down the small toilet, and, as for the fate of the needle. I crushed it with a hammer I barrowed from Hamish; there was no way I would allow Erik to ever touch, nor turn to, drugs ever again. As I was walking the hammer back to Hamish a thought popped into my head, Erik was silent when I spoke of his love for me, but, when I mentioned Pierre, he rebelled immediately and told me what I wanted to know. I paused walking; he had to love me! Why else would he have done all of those things for me, propose to me, and have (and attempt to have) children with me?

He had to love me!

Maybe he didn't say anything because he was letting me speak my peace.

Who knows with him.

I returned to the kitchen to see Hamish smiling. "Thank you for letting me use your hammer, Hamish" said I, handing it back to him.

"Oh, anytime, anytime princesa! Say, your son was in here a few moments ago, he left this" said Hamish, handing me Pierre's little, black book. I smiled.

"What was Pierre doing in here?" I asked, Hamish smiled.

"The little boy wants to learn how to cook; he said that his father cooks for his mummy all the time and he wants to learn how to cook just as good, if not better, for his wife, whenever he gets one." Hamish explained, I sighed, Pierre really was Erik's son. He was a practical carbon copy of Erik! I thanked Hamish and took my leave, along with the book. I hurried up to the roof of the Palais Garnier and sat next to an angel, flipping to where I left off.

_'I was so dizzied I couldn't move from the ground, and the continuous up and down motion of the running horses didn't help much. So, I was unconscious; and, when I woke I was in a strange, red tent; my shirt had left my body, but I still wore trousers. The man who picked me up was there, he was turned away, and, there was something blocking my vision to him; I reached out and touched whatever it was; it was cold and iron, and, I realized soon afterwards that I was stuck in a cage! I cried out and the man turned; a smile spread across his sweaty face. "So, you're awake? _

_Fantastic" the man said, I kicked at the bars and the man laughed. "You won't get out of those, my little corpse couldn't get out, you sure as hell can't." He added, still laughing. _

_"Why am I here? I owe you nothing!" I yelled, the man smiled._

_"Yes, you don't. You're here because I want you here; I see potential in you, monsieur." The man continued._

_"Potential?" I asked, the man nodded. _

_"Umm hmm, potential...potential to make me rich!" The man cried, laughing until his oily face became wet with not just oil, but sweat as well. This man was so disgusting; gluttonous, as I've stated more than once, sweaty, pig faced, and appeared to have no sense of manners or personal space! _

_"Monsieur" I started, cringing, for, he didn't deserve to have the title 'monsieur'. "Please, I have no potential, for anything. There's nothing special about me!" I cried, attempting to persuade the man; the man scoffed. _

_"Have you seen your eyes? They're as yellow as the sun! People will come for miles around just to see that!" The man cried, smiling and stepping out of the tent, then, he stepped back inside. "I'll be gone for a few moments, if you are going to attempt to escape, do so now; you won't ever get another chance" the man finished, winking and leaving._

_And, I did exactly as he said. I escaped. There was a bar with a small piece of paper stuck beneath it; I pulled the paper up and revealed father's handwriting! The note ran thus: 'If you are trapped in here like I was, press this bar over to the right, slip out, and push the bar back, Javert will never know how you left. Take this note and slip it back beneath the bar, place hay on top of it so Javert won't find it; Javert never cleans the cages anyways, he won't find it if you hide it well enough.'_

_I paused and thought for a moment, maybe, just maybe that man that was kissing my mother...really was my father. I paused and did as the note said; sure enough, the bar bent and I slipped out, placing the note back beneath the bar and bending the bar back, covering the note with hay and turning around and around before I saw another slip of paper, the same colour as the note beneath the bar, underneath a bushel of apples! I rushed to it and pulled it out, in was in the same handwriting as the one from beneath the bar was! 'Good, if you're reading this I means you've gotten out of the cage or Javert placed you on the ground. Behind these crates and bushels of apples there is another flap for you to exit the tent; use it. _

_But, be stealthy, the medicine woman is on good terms with Javert and will rat you out in a heart beat if she spies you with her lazy eye. However, if, she looks to you with her straight eye; she has not seen you, it is the lazy one you must worry of. If you pass her, go to the tree with the sign of cancer carved into it; reach into the hole of the tree and you will find the next note. Run with all speed and do not look back, looking back is the most horrid thing you could do.' The note read, I nodded and placed the note back to its original spot, covering it so that man named Javert wouldn't find it._

_Before slipping out of the tent I peeked out and saw no one; becoming more confident, I stepped out and hurried away __bolting for the forest that outlined this strange place. However, I went against what my father had written on the note, and, I looked back. When I did I saw the fat man barreling towards me, a whip in hand; behind him, standing stiffly was an old woman with spikey, grey hair and an eye that rolled with her head, whilst the other eye stared straight ahead; seeing nothing. I slowed for but a moment, and that was my bane; the man who, I guessed his name was Javert, cracked the whip and it lashed my back. I screamed and fell to the ground, and the man named Javert was relentless! _

_The whip slapped and stung my back so many times I lost count; by the time he finished I was covered in blood and could not stand. He took me up by the hair of my head and dragged me through the dirt and mud, and my own blood back to his tent where he threw me down into the cage and attached a heavy, iron collar around my neck that was attached to the cage itself; so I couldn't leave. For the next few days he gave me no food, only water, and I wasn't given any privacy, even to urinate! He stared hard at me as I turned away from him and there was something sick that sparkled in his eyes, something that scared me more than all of the lashings in the world. People actually came to see me, and, sometimes they would throw old food and trash at me; calling me a freak of nature, my, if they only treat a child with yellow eyes in such a way, how must've they treated my father? _

_One man even passed by me with a large camera and asked me what I most wanted in the world; I spotted a newspaper tag on his shirt; it was the very same newspaper that my parents read on Sundays! I knew this would get out to them, one way or another so I pushed out some tears and told him that I wanted my mummy, which, I really did want her, and my father. I needed both of them now more than ever. The man left and, the very next day, Sunday, Javert woke me and took me out of my cage; he stroked my hair very nicely and was strangely happy, but, I knew the cause of this, his breath was heavily coated with the stench of spirits and garlic, which ruled the gypsies diet. Javert was so drunk he even took the collar off of me! _

_Javert stood and talked to me for a while, I attempted to escape a few times, but, Javert would only laugh and sit me back down, then, I don't remember what time it was, he turned away from me and I heard a jingling. Next, his belt fell to the floor and he turned back to me with the same, sickly smile that I saw in the carriage. His trousers fell to his ankles and his manhood was revealed, I curled away in horror and made a break for the front of the tent; I would take a lashing any day over what he had in mind! Javert grasped me and turned me over, punching my cheek with the strength of a stumbling brick wall! I was so dizzied and confused I could do nothing, I didn't even realize he took my trousers off. _

_I won't get into detail, for my own sake, but, let us just say teeth and manhood do not mix well at all; I'll ask father how to make the pain stop. Anyways, after this little episode he slammed me to the ground, stomach down, and, well, penetrated. It hurt so much, there's not a word to describe the pain; how do ladies do it? Perhaps I will ask mummy later; I will forever marvel at the strength of a woman. Getting back to the main point, I heard nothing but my own cries until I heard a gasp and saw mummy running at Javert with her hand balled into a fist; ready to fight._

_I plopped onto the ground and father yanked me away, dressing me hurriedly and hugging me tightly; his eyes were wild, how much distress had those two gone through? I turned back to find mummy sitting atop Javert, stabbing his gluttony with a small knife and then, standing and stomping on his neck; she was covered in blood. Again, I will forever marvel at the strength, and anger, of a woman. Father pulled her off and hugged her, calming her; she pulled me into her arms and held me against her, I didn't care about the blood. It wasn't like I was clean or anything; besides, she's my mummy and was more than likely worried sick, especially so to kill a man like that! _

_Father better watch his tongue with her now that she has her newfound power of rage! Oh, me, anyways, mummy, I know you're reading this, I know you are too, father. Please, please, never let me go anywhere out alone, especially in the cloak of night. I love you two more than life itself and if anything were to happen...I don't know what I would do; I love you both, especially since were so imperfect.' _

I sat next to the angel statue, crying at my son's words; they were so well-put-together and wonderful for a child of his age! Then again, with parents like us, I don't think he would be normal anyways. I sniffled and felt two hands rest on my shoulders; it was Erik. I stood and threw my arms around him, kissing his neck. "I love you" I whispered; he smiled.

"I love you more, angel. You know how we wanted to get married?" Asked he, I looked up to him and nodded.

"Well, let's do it. Tonight, nothing can stop us." Said he, his eyes alight. I paused.

"B-But didn't you do all that planning and-"

"Shush, hush, angel. We can have a formal wedding later; I just..." he faded for a moment, touching my cheek; I laid my head into his hand so he cupped my cheek. "I want to be with you forever...so bad...and, we can take a honeymoon to wherever you want; of course, we'll bring Pierre, but, he'll have a room of his own" Erik said, raising his eyebrows and letting them fall quickly; as a seductive measure. I giggled.

"Of course, angel" said I, my tears drying quite quickly; he smiled and we kissed, Erik pocketed Pierre's little book so my and his hands would be free. But, as we kissed, I heard something strange that sounded like a bird; our kiss broke and we turned to find Abelia, Hamish, and Pierre all standing, obviously hidden behind an angel statue! They were making an "oooooh" sound; I giggled and Erik grinned, now, we had a wedding to plan and to make sure Pierre was quite alright. Now, I could take a sigh of relief.

_**(A/N) **_

_**This is just a little note to the reviewers :D Mademoiselle Lauren, first of all, thank you! And, secondly, your blog is superb; I love your icon of the cat sticking its tongue out, my cat does that sometimes! And, Mademoiselle Aria, you run. That is all you do with an angry cat, run and lock yourself in your bedroom for ten moments to a half an hour. That usually calms my cat down; then again, she doesn't get angry very often, she's a very mellow cat, a ragdoll cat. Her full name is Fluffy Muffin Zachary and she's going to be thirteen in October :D **_


	41. Bride and Groom

_Chapter Forty One: Bride and Groom_

-* Erik carried me, bridal style (how fitting!) Down to our home upon the lake where we rushed into separate closets and dressed in our finest clothes. I pulled out a large, white dress I bought for this very occasion! It was poofy at the bottom and carried sequins and pearls in wonderful designs upon the corset; glitter gave the poofy, white bottom extra shine. My heart sang as I dressed in it and Abelia curled my hair; Erik had tasked the Persian with the job of finding a preacher.

There came a knock at my door and Abelia answered; it was Erik! Apparently, he was already dressed and more than quite ready to be married! "Oh, go away, Erik! You mustn't see the bride, it's bad luck!" Abelia cried, blocking me, in vain, from Erik's view; Erik gave a playful smile and sunk his hands into his trouser pockets.

"To hell with superstition; let me see my wife" said he. Abelia rolled her eyes.

"She's not your wife yet" she huffed, ruefully moving to the side; I hadn't applied the least bit of make up yet, however, when Erik' saw me his eyes glittered like they did at La Carlotta's birthday party. The first official time we saw each other. Abelia stuck a veil in my hair and I took a quick glance down at Erik's dressing; he was in a sleek, black tuxedo and a white rose peeped out of his chest pocket. His hair was slicked back and he wore his clean, white half-mask on the left side of his face. Gosh, he was so handsome, how did I ever score a man like he?

"Wow" he whispered, gently grasping my hands and scanning over my dress; we smiled to each other, unable to hide our joy to each other, why would we? "You're so beautiful, Persephone, I wouldn't trade you for anything; gosh, you have no idea how much of my everything you are." Said he, I smiled and pulled him into a hug; kissing his neck.

"I know, my angel, I know" I replied; he paused and sighed, pulling away from my arms and falling down to one knee.

"Marry me" said he, stars entrapped in his eyes. I giggled.

"I already am!"

"I know, but I want to marry you again, and again, and again! I want to marry you every day of every month of every year! I want you to feel all of this love I have inside me; I want you to know how much I love you...how many times I'll marry you and kiss you and swear to you my undying loyalty and faith in you, I want to do that all the time. I want to tell you that every day; ten million times a day, so you'll know only but a sample of what I will do for you, and what I would love to do for you...if you'll let me." He finished; this speech brought tears to my eyes, I fell to my knees and threw my arms and lips towards and around him so hard he toppled over!

He chuckled as I showered his face and neck in hisses and little nips. I give a little nibble to his ear and he cried out, not in pain, however. He laughed and pushed me to the ground, locking our lips around the other's. I ran my fingers through his perfectly gelled (and combed) hair and encased my legs around his torso; his knees were spread apart and sat upon the floor, holding both of us up as one of his hands held my waist and the other tenderly touched my cheek. There was a little giggle behind us; Erik slowly broke our lips apart again and turned to find Pierre leaning against the doorframe and Abelia standing beside him, holding a bouquet of mixed white and red roses.

Erik pulled me up and swung me around; I giggled and kissed his cheek. Abelia, once I was stable, handed me my bouquet and Erik took up my arm; we decided, on the way down to the cellars, that Erik would walk with me down the aisle.

Pierre hurried behind us and lifted up the train of my dress; Pierre was the ring bearer and Abelia would play the part of Maid of Honor whilst Cindy would be the flower girl (even though she's quite over the appropriate age of a normal flower girl). Abelia walked with her suitor down the aisle and so did the rest of my bridesmaids; I held Erik's hand tightly and looked up to him before we walked down the aisle. "I love you" I said softly; tears already gathering in my eyes.

"I love you so much more, angel" said he, leaning over and kissing my forehead; then, as the music started, we walked down the aisle together. News reporters for newspapers were there, people I didn't know were there, a few people I recognized from my days in Whitechapel were there, even, Captain Edmund who was my first real friend, sat in the middle row; dowsing his eyes with a white handkerchief. And, I knew what he was going to say 'I told you that you would become something'. I smiled to him and nodded, turning back to my Erik and blinking away tears. When we reached the alter, Erik stood before me and grasped my hands; holding them gently within his own.

We were smiling to each other as the orchestra stopped but the camera shutters continued to click and a few reporters scratched down notes onto small pads.

Erik and I had decided to write our own vows, and mine, well, it wasn't the best in the world. It was confused and mixed up, but I had done as he told me. "Write your feelings down on paper" mostly, I had spent my time doodling our wedding, for, I couldn't come up with the right words to express my love for him. He said his vows first.

"Persephone, baby, first of all, I just want to thank you for...for wanting to be with me forever. There's no one I would rather be with; you are my everything, the light to my darkness, the yin to my yang, the good to my evil...the angel to the devil which lives within me. You've braved so much for me, baby, and not just for me; for us. But, bravery is, by far, not the only thing that I love about you; I love the goofy way you dance, and how you don't care if anyone's looking or not" he paused and people laughed; I giggled. "I love the way you sing, especially when your voice cracks so I get to 'kiss it better'" he paused again and the crowd gave a collective 'aw'.

"I love the way your hair sparkles, in any light or darkness, and how your eyes hold the stars of Apollo. I love how independent you are, and yet, you still find the need to have me around; which, my god, am I thankful for" he paused and the crowd laughed. He smiled. "Angel, you were indeed bequeathed with the most correct name of them all_. 'The first living visitor to the Underworld, though an unwilling one, was the goddess Persephone._

_Persephone was an innocent maiden, a virgin who loved to play in the fields where eternal springtime reigned. But Hades had other plans for Persephone: He would steal her innocence and virginity and turn her into the dreaded goddess of the Underworld. Hades, god of the Underworld, fell in love with Persephone and wanted her as his bride; Hades literally deflowered her, but, as years passed, they still remained faithful to each other, though they had no children.' _Now, that is all I will quote from the story of Hade's Bride; for, it's the only relatable part. Persephone, know that this Hades loves you and will never, ever leave you.

You are more than the love of my life; you are my life." Erik paused again, he was growing teary eyed. "You're my best friend, angel, and, I'd rather soon die than leave you. So, again I say; thank you for choosing to stay with me forever." He finished and the crowd clapped; I dabbed my eyes with Captain Edmund's handkerchief.

"Oh, god, now my vow's going to sound horrible!" I cried with a sob stuck in my throat; the crowd laughed and Erik hugged me, kissing my forehead. "Erik" I said, clearing my throat again. "You've shown me the real you and, in turn I've attempted to do that myself. Though I...I don't have a very long, completely wonderful vow such as you did, I have a quite simple one that came from well...whatever jumbled mess I have stored in my head" I said; the crowd, Erik, and the preacher laughed.

"These last few years were completely mental, to say the very least and I'm so glad I spent them with you; even through the ups and downs there's no one I would've rather been with. And, you're right about the Hades and Persephone story; we have stuck together; through everything. Through heartbreak and toil, and birth and death, through love and not...from hell to heaven and back, and...and..." I paused; I had forgotten the rest of my vow! I turned towards Pierre and saw it; this very diary. It stuck out of his tuxedo! "Pierre" I said, he snapped to attention.

"May I see my diary, please?" Pierre's face burnt crimson as he brought up the diary to me. I smiled and gained an idea; I flipped to the very first time Erik began to mess with me and then read it up until La Carlotta's birthday party. (Of course excluding a few parts). I closed the book and looked up to him.

"I have no more words, for, words cannot even begin to describe the story of us and the love we hold for the other; only actions." I said, I paused and leaned forwards, puckering my lips. Erik gave a silly smile and kissed back; camera shutters flashed and reporters scratched upon their pads quickly. Next, we repeated after the preacher and said our 'I do's'. "I do" said I, the preacher smiled and, in my peripheral vision I saw Erik bouncing a little in excitement; the preacher laughed.

"Hold on, hold on, Monsieur Destler! You may kiss her in a moment!" He said, still laughing; I smiled, Destler. Persephone Destler; it has a nice ring to it, does it not? The preacher waited a moment and nodded.

"I now pronounce you man and wife, you may now kiss your bride, Monsieur Destler!" He cried; Erik grasped me and swung me down, gluing our lips together. Our kiss lasted for a minute or so, and then Erik carried me bridal style back down the aisle as people threw white and red rose petals over us; my cherry red lipstick covered Erik's lips and a little above and below his lips. He wore a dopey grin as he carried me out and Pierre followed quickly behind us; watching our rings glitter and shine upon our fingers.

_**(A/N)**_

_**I haven't decided if I should make this the last chapter or not...hmm. I dunno, in any case, begin submitting your questions, if you have any, about this book! I'm going to look back through the reviews (which are 100 as of right now! On Tumblr I posted a few pictures I drew of some of the scenes from this book in honor of my 100 reviews) and pick out the questions :D if anyone gives me good inspiration or an idea (maybe a chapter for Pierre finding a little girlfriend..?) I'll make it into the next chapter(s).**_

_**Anywho, au revoir! **_


	42. Honeymoon

_Chapter Forty Two: Honeymoon_

-* Our honeymoon was in Persia, and, we thought of bringing Pierre along with us, however, Abigail volunteered to watch him whilst we were away for two weeks.

Erik took me all over Persia, however, most of our time was spent back in the hotel room with a 'do not disturb' sign swinging on the doorknob.

It was a sweet, little vacation and I continuously stared at my wedding ring; he was officially mine now. All mine! And, when we were out I spotted a few younger ladies seizing him up and I rushed to his side; distracting him, but giving the women a not-so-nice finger gesture as we passed by them.

-* When we returned to Paris, however, we were faced with something we forgot about.

Christine.

She stood, waiting for us as we returned; Erik carrying our luggage. I grasped his arm and he straightened up; Christine wore a black dress with a black hat and black feather, she was still mourning the death of her nephew and husband. Tears were gathered in her eyes and she slapped Erik's cheek! I wouldn't take this, so, I slapped Christine! She paused and turned to me again.

"How dare you?" She asked in a quiet, disgusted tone.

"How dare _you_?" I asked in a louder tone, but, I was no less disgusted. "You hit my husband and I will hit you back; regardless if you are a man or woman." I said, Christine's porcelain cheek was cracked and a red handprint was already emerging; Erik rubbed his cheek.

"He killed my nephew and husband!" She exclaimed; I glanced around.

"And? Have you come to tell us the obvious? If you have you are free to leave and I congratulate you on finally coming to speed with the situation" I stated, clapping for her; I was in no mood to deal with her meddling at the moment. I only wanted to snuggle with my husband and son more; Christine's mouth hung agape and she blinked in shock at my outburst.

"I actually came to make amends" she said quietly.

"Well, what a wonderful way to make amends than to slap those who you are attempting to amend with" said I, I had become more snarky as of late; it was because I wasn't feeling good and I had vomited twice on our honeymoon. Erik suspected I was pregnant again, for, it lasted too long to be food poisoning and nor was it a cold; I promised him I would travel to the physicians and find out if I was or not. Speaking of late events, Erik was getting off of morphine, however, he was having withdraws and would often stare into space or at me for ten moments at a time. Other than that he was more hungry and cleaned his plate for every meal!

Christine sighed. "I'm sorry, I...I still haven't...amended with myself" she said, fiddling with her dress; I nodded and Erik and I took Christine down to our home upon the lake where Pierre awaited us.

-* "Mummy, father!" Pierre yelled running to us; Pierre ran into my arms and Erik hugged Pierre and I; Christine stood off to the side and smiled at our little family.

Erik took our luggage into our bedroom and began telling Pierre what it was like in Persia when I sat down with Christine in the Louis-Philippe room. "So, you went to Persia for your honeymoon?" Christine asked, I nodded and smiled.

"It was beautiful; all of the flowers were in bloom and the people were so polite! Erik brought me into the Shah's palace and gave me this necklace" said I, moving my hair and showing Christine a beautifully golden necklace with a diamond so large I could almost fit both of my eyes into it! Christine smiled and nodded at its brilliance.

"He's a very devoted man" Christine said sorrowfully.

"That he is" I agreed and moments later Erik returned with little Pierre following behind him, blathering about what he did whilst we were gone. Pierre hurried over to me and grasped my hands, continuing whatever he told Erik; I smiled and pulled him onto my lap, kissing his ear and causing him to giggle. Erik sat beside me and laid his arm around my shoulders. Christine cleared her throat and sighed.

"Although I will never forget what happened to William and Raoul, I am willing to forgive what's happened and move on. It's the only way I'll regain closure" she explained, I nodded and looked to Erik.

"It's up to you, my love; I'll do anything you like." Said he, I smiled and cuddled up against his chest. I glanced over to Christine and smiled.

"Yes, I am too" I agreed with Christine, I placed Pierre on the ground and stood to shake hands with Christine, but, something happened when Christine stood that scarred me for the rest of my life.

She removed a gun from god knows where and she fired blindly.

Erik saw the cold glitter of the revolver and threw me over the couch before she could begin shooting; he, himself, fell over the armrest to safety.

After the firing ended I peeked over the couch to see Christine holding the gun to her head; she smiled an evil grin to me. "Christine, no!" I screamed, but it was too late.

The gun shot of one final round and Christine fell to the ground, eyes wide open, but filled with emptiness. Then, I spotted something that almost caused me to vomit on the spot.

Pierre, he was lying on the ground, blood flowing freely from his torso. I screamed his name and ran around the couch, falling to my knees before him to see tears flowing from his eyes and blood covering his teeth. Erik plucked him from the ground and ran out of the house and placed him in the gondola, in my lap. His skin was turning pale and his fingers turned icy cold; he trembled and his breathing was labored, like Martha's when she was born. "M-Mummy?"

Pierre asked as Erik dashed both of us out of the Palais Garnier and into a cab. "Y-Yes, my son?" I asked, tears falling from my eyes as I clutched his hand within mine.

"C-Can you d-d-do something f-for me w-when I d-die?" He asked, his eyes widening; Erik sat beside me, though he wasn't crying he was clearly in distress.

"Don't speak like that! You're going to live, Pierre, you will, I swear it!" I yelled, I now began shaking more than Pierre. He smiled.

"I know, b-but if I d-d-do, I want you to make another child with father; I-I have the sp-specifics o-of what I w-want written d-down in a s-sheet stuck in your d-diary, mummy" Pierre said; he smiled again. "I can't feel my hands" said he; I whimpered and allowed my head to fall to his chest, his hands became limp and his body began to weigh down in my arms. "I love you, mummy; I love you so much" he whispered, planting a kiss on my cheek and laying his head back against my forearm, closing his eyes, then, his eyes shot open again. "And you too, father, I love you both so...very...much" he said, his words becoming whispers until they were nothing and his once lively eyes cooled as he stared at me and his body became unbearable to hold; even so I wouldn't let go of him and his small hand wouldn't unlatch from my own. I screamed and yanked his small body to my chest, cradling him and kissing all over his face; Erik wrapped his arms around me and I felt a few teardrops fall onto my shoulder and his body shook, he was crying too. Erik says that I murmured 'my son' over and over until the driver stopped the carriage and announced we were at the hospital.

But there was nothing we could do.

My little Pierre was dead.

-* For the next week I was completely inconsolable and Erik had to force feed me, for, I wouldn't eat; nor could I sleep unless he was in the bed with me. I was plagued with nightmares of his little body falling heavily in my arms and his eyes, staring at me as the life slipped out of him, between his ashy, bloodstained lips. His funeral was held a few days afterwards and all who worked at the Palais Garnier came to attendance; Pierre had ten pages of his funeral book signed, if that helps any to explain the mass attendance there was. That day Erik and I stopped by Christine's grave and I threw marigolds down, before her tombstone; marigolds symbolize death and sorrow, and I wished Christine to get all the death and sorrow there was in the afterlife. Christine was buried next to Raoul and William and, for Pierre, we constructed a marble tomb where all of us Destler's would be laid to rest.

When I could speak and eat by my self again I took up this diary and a sheet of paper fell out of it, it read, in Pierre's handwriting:

_Specific things I want if I die: _

_1. Mummy, have another child with father, if it is a girl, name her Emily; if it is a boy, name him Jacques._

_2. Don't cry. Every time you feel like crying, mummy, go kiss father, and father, go kiss mummy. _

_3. Every day I want you two to tell each other how much you love each other; if you're ever bored, write the other one a poem or note. _

_4. Eat lots and lots of sweets until you vomit and sleep all day the next day!_

_5. To mummy, don't stop singing. Your voice is to beautifully precious for you to stop singing. _

_6. This is the last thing I wish; every year, on my death date, whenever that is, I want you to stop by my grave and sing to me. A duet would be greatly appreciated. Just remember that I love you both more than life itself and I will do anything to help you two stay together; I love you mummy and daddy, I love you. _

I fell down to my knees and wept over the note; whispering my little Pierre's name. Then Erik came in and cuddled me, reading quickly over the note and sighing; kissing all over my face and neck until I stopped crying and kissed him back; fulfilling number two. "I love you, Erik" I said quickly before we kissed again and he pressed me against the floor.

"Oh, baby, I love you so much more" said he, kissing my neck multiple times and then moving back to my lips. I didn't feel like crying anymore; even in death Pierre knew how to make me happy.

_**(A/N)**_

_**I don't believe I've ever cried thrice consecutively save in this chapter. Sorry I had to make you guys cry again; oppsies. Anyways, I've started two new Phanfictions! 'Angel at Sea' (Erik's a pirate!) and 'Dead Years' (which I see some of you have already started following :D). **_

_**Anyways, life update! I sang 'Think of Me' again to get into chorus and I hit the final note! Guess who's been named lead soprano? Woot woot! Anyways, as you can tell there will be a few more chapters; I'm trying to milk all I can out of this story!**_

_**I love writing it (yes, even the crying parts) and reading all of your wonderful reviews (even if you want to hurt me in some of them; oh well!) Thank you for all the amazing reviews and I will continue to attempt to appease all of you out there! Au revoir! **_


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